Halo
by lemonygoodness1998
Summary: Death the Kid is a perfect gentleman to everyone - except to the most infuriating girl of them all, Riley. Riley, for reasons she'll never admit, is antisocial - except when it comes to insulting Death the Kid. Tune in to absolute chaos as Kid and Riley go on action-packed adventures and reveal that, sometimes, the line between love and hate is too thin to notice.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Kid's POV

"Goddammit, Black*Star! You don't have to fight every new student!"

The blue-haired monkey-boy currently stood atop a red spike at the front of my father's academy – _if he breaks that thing, I swear to God_ – smiling into the sun. Even the glint on his teeth was egotistical. The bastard.

"I AM THE GREAT BLACK*STAR! NOBODY CAN STEAL MY SPOTL- GAH!"

His eloquence came to a halt when a hardcover book flew into his head and sent him tumbling to the ground. I thought I heard Tsubaki murmur a "nice shot" to Maka before rushing over to her fallen partner as usual.

We had barely changed since the defeat of the Kishin five years earlier – at least not our personalities. Five years had had a significant effect on all of our appearances: Maka had filled out, Black*Star had gotten a growth spurt, Tsubaki had gotten even curvier, Soul had developed the muscular appearance typical of a Death Scythe, Patty had gotten taller, Liz had surpassed her sister in bust size, and I had finally grown taller than all of them. But even though Soul and I towered over him, Black*Star was still convinced that he was the "biggest man in the room."

"Nothing can stop the great Black*Star..." he wheezed as his head oozed blood onto the stone courtyard.

"Tell that to the ground and see how hard it laughs," Soul said smirking down at his friend.

"I'm pretty damn sure the ground can't laugh," Black*Star groaned and sat up.

"_That's the only reason it's not laughing_," giggled Liz in my ear.

From the corners of my eyes a small black blob was ascending the stairs. A small chuckle rose from the figure as it witnessed the whole exchange.

"It looks like the flagstones aren't the only ones who find the exchange amusing," I commented. Everyone looked to where the new student was cresting the stairs. Black*Star immediately leapt to his feet proudly.

"So you're the new student at the DWMA, huh?" he bellowed. "Well I'm Black*Star and I'm going to surpass God one day!"

The new student was cloaked in a pair of black sweatpants and a black hooded sweatshirt, its hood pulled securely over his face. On his feet he wore black Converse high tops. I found the fact that he wore those clothes in the middle of the Nevada Desert odd; he didn't even have his sleeves rolled up, except for one of them-

I immediately barreled through my friends to fix the asymmetrical sleeve. The moment I turned down the cuff he jerked his hand back.

"What the hell, man?" he asked and backed up. "Don't touch me!"

"Kid has raging OCD," Liz explained behind me. "If he sees something asymmetrical he cries."

"I do not cry!"

"Don't lie, Kid," said Maka. As if in defiance he flipped his cuff back to its original, and asymmetrical, state. The back of my head hurt just looking at it, even more so when I couldn't see it but knew it was there.

A chorus of gasps rang out behind me.

"You probably should not have done that," Soul said. I hardly registered anything. My eye began to twitch and the back of my head began to burn and I could not for the life of me take my eyes off of that god-forsaken turned up cuff! Why wouldn't he just let me fix it!?

"Oh no," Liz grumbled. "He's losing it."

My head snapped up to face the new student.

"Fix your sleeve," I commanded lowly, "or I will forcibly fix it."

"Either get some medication or deal with it, Reaper Boy," he scoffed. He must have been able to see souls. That was the only way he would have known I was a Shinigami.

"So you can see souls, then," I commented, trying to surreptitiously fix the sleeve.

"I applaud your observation skills. And stop trying to fix the cuff." He put his arm behind his back, making him even more asymmetrical.

"Goddammit!" I yelled. "Please fix it, or let me fix it! Do you have any idea what it's like?"

"I do, I've just learned to deal with it. Now let me through."

He wove in between the crowd of my friends and headed for the door.

"Not yet," I growled and grabbed the sleeve to yank it into place. He whirled around and yanked his arm away from my grasp.

"I told you not to touch me!"

"And I told you to your sleeve!"

"Go fuck yourself, Reaper!"

All fell silent.

"Do you realize," I said shakily, "who you are dealing with here?"

"I have an idea," he said lowly.

This guy was really starting to piss me off.

I swung at his face, but he brought an arm up to block my fist. He jumped back as I made a jab at his stomach with my other hand and whipped my leg up in a round kick. After ducking he leapt back even farther, hands still in his pockets.

"Just let me fix your symmetry!" I screamed at him.

"Not now, Reaper!" yelled the new boy back at me.

"Liz. Patty," I said, indicating I wanted them to transform.

"No way in hell, Kid. This is between you and the new guy," Liz told me.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered and charged at the boy. I managed to hook my leg around the bag of his legs, but he back-flipped from my grasp and landed in a crouch. He turned his head to look at the front of the school.

_Here's my chance!_

I swung a controlled kick directly at his head.

He stopped my foot. Without even looking, he grabbed my foot and flung it away from his face, then raced to the front entrance. We all watched in awe and horror as he ricocheted off the walls beside the doors until he landed on one of the red spikes. I followed in the same manner, landing in a crouch just behind him. It was then that I realized that not once had he ever tried to hit me. It was almost like he was toying with me just to see what I would do next. I growled.

"Why won't you let me fix you?!" I shouted at his turned back. Then he stiffened as the world's most dreaded noise echoed throughout the courtyard.

"YAHOO!"


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Riley's POV

_Control yourself... Control yourself..._

It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the ramblings of the idiot behind me. I stared down at the courtyard contemplating my next moves. If he came at me from behind I could roll under the spike and drop down, or leap over him, or-

_Why don't you just use it?_ Those six words popped violently into the forefront of my mind. I squinted my eyes shut.

_No way in hell! Go away!_ I thought back.

_Aw, you'd be so lonely if I left!_ The voice giggled. _Plus, you wouldn't be able to live without me._

_I don't need you_.

_Oh really? Last time I checked it was me who told you to grab his foot._

I was suddenly snapped out of my internal argument by a loud voice.

"YAHOO!" the blue-haired boy whooped as he landed on the very tip of the spike in front of me. "Nobody hurts the great Black*Star's friends and gets away with it! I'll show you who's the biggest man in the room!"

_Oh come on! Can't you at least hit this guy? He's annoying as hell!_

_Very tempting..._

With as much restraint as I could muster I gingerly walked up to him, then poked him in the forehead. He lost his balance and toppled down to the ground for the second time that day.

"Good riddance," I muttered.

"I may share the sentiment but your sleeve is still asymmetrical!" the Reaper boy shouted behind me.

"Crap!"

His shout startled me and sent one of my feet down hard against the tip of the spike. It snapped off and fell to the ground as I watched.

"MY FATHER'S ACADEMY!"

_I think you should run._

_You don't need to tell me twice._

I immediately launched myself off the spike with Reaper Boy right behind me. He grabbed my ankle and, with remarkable strength, pulled me back up to him, grappling at my left wrist as he tried to turn down the cuff. I shook him off and landed in a shoulder roll, him following suit moments later.

"You violated the symmetry of my father's academy," he said threateningly. "You don't deserve to live."

"Listen, it's just the tip of a spike. I'll fix it myself if you want me to."

"And repaint it with your own blood!" He launched himself at me like a bullet and I rolled out of the way.

"Well, aren't we poetic today?" I teased.

Bad idea.

He leapt back to his feet and attacked again, this time coming within millimeters of my nose. The only reason my face wasn't caved in from the impact of his fist was that I jerked my head out of the way at the last minute. He tried to sweep his leg under my feet again, but I jumped then ducked as he tried to chop at my neck. I barely slid from his grasp and flipped to the stairs. Reaper Boy growled at me, bangs concealing his eyes.

"Fight back, dammit!" he demanded. "Stop toying with me!"

"Absolutely not." My hands rested snugly in my pockets.

"And why-" he swung a leg up and I ducked, "-not?"

"Because-" I jumped over him and dodged another jab, "it's not worth it!"

That stopped him.

"What?"

"I'm coming here to be trained as a meister, not to fight the school's pretty boy." A chorus of "oohs" snaked from the people in the courtyard, and Reaper Boy turned bright red.

"What did you just call me, punk?"

"I think you heard me."

"Okay, you two," a new voice firmly commanded. "That's enough." I turned to look at the newcomer and nodded in recognition.

"Stein."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Kid's POV

"You all know no fights are allowed on campus without teacher supervision," said the professor. He smirked as if he knew something I didn't.

"Well, I wouldn't really call it much of a fight," the new boy stated bluntly.

"_Excuse _me, but I think I fought pretty damn admirably – "

"Not now, Kid," Professor Stein interrupted sternly. Then, turning to the asshole that was the new student – "So what would you call it?"

"I never actually hit him back – nor did I try to. So," he turned to me with an infuriating chuckle, "I'd say it could be classified as aggravated assault."

"Perhaps we should get the Death City Police Department involved."

"That is a fantastic idea, Stein."

"Hold it!" Soul cut in. "Who are you? And how do you and Professor Stein know each other?" The new guy cocked a hip and crossed his arms.

"I'm a new student."

"We're looking for some more specific information than that, asshole," I snapped.

"Watch yourself, Reaper," he warned.

"Why should I?"

"Do you _want _this aggravated assault to turn into a fight?"

"Let's take this outside."

"We're already outside, genius."

"You two," Professor Stein warned.

"What?" the new kid snapped at him.

_Does this guy have a death wish?_

To everyone's astonishment, the professor just chuckled.

"Feisty as ever," he commented and shook his head. "I was merely going to break up your little battle of wits."

"It's not a battle of wits if the other person is unarmed," the new kid muttered.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?" I screamed at him. I was passed pissed off now.

"Well, to paraphrase, I called you an idiot."

That was it.

Of its own accord my right arm hooked around to hit him in the skull, but, unfathomable at such a short distance, I missed – but I didn't miss his hood. I grabbed at the black fabric and yanked it down, ready to face my enemy like a man and-

"Don't fucking touch me!"

Something slammed into my jaw and sent me flying halfway across the courtyard. The new kid walked up to stand over me, fuming.

_Oh shit_.

Said new kid's hair was brown and clipped up in the back, giving me a _very_ clear view of grey eyes, full lips, and a very asymmetrical scar running across the left jawline.

_Her_ left jawline.

Riley's POV

_You could hit him, you know._

_I could _kill_ him you know._

_And wouldn't it be fun!_

_It's starting to sound tempting, but no._

_You don't even have to hit him! You could just use – _

_Absolutely not. You know what happens when I do that. Go away._

_Don't be so harsh on me._

_I'm being honest. And I _honestly_ wish you weren't here._

_You'd be lonely._

_I'd be fantastic._

_Just hit him._

_Fucking fine._

Now I stood over the little twerp who lay twitching on the ground. His golden eyes and pale, angular face were set off by the raven hair messily framing it; broad shoulders, a slender but muscular chest, all encased in an impeccable black suit completed the image before me.

As much as I hated to admit it, Lord Death's son was gorgeous. Even if he was a complete asshole.

Reaper boy glared up at me momentarily, then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"Y-you're a girl?"

"Well, that's somewhat debatable," I deadpanned.

"Looks like Kiddo just got beat up by a girl!" cackled one of the boy's weapons. I gave her a satisfied smirk before returning my attention to the Shinigami.

_See? I told you it would be fun. But it would be even more fun if you killed him! Imagine all the pretty blood painting the flagstone like a sunset-_

_Go away._

I had started to salivate, but I wiped away the escaping spittle and turned somewhat nervously back to Stein. I was going to have to work harder than ever to keep the Voice from taking over.

"So I take it that you're my welcoming committee," I addressed him. He faintly chuckled in return.

"It would appear so. Would you like a tour of the grounds?"

"Yeah, that'd be helpful." Stein looked over my shoulder and shouted at Reaper Boy, who had walked back to rejoin his group of friends.

"Kid!"

"Yes, professor?" he responded, dusting himself off.

"Would you kindly show this young lady around campus?"

"NO!" Reaper Boy and I shouted in unison.

"Absolutely no way am I getting a tour from him. I've known him for less than ten minutes and I already know that he's just going to freak out about everything asymmetrical."

"I second the motion!" Reaper Boy added. "And I don't even want to know what she'll try to do to me when my OCD flares up."

"Riley, Kid is Lord Death's son," Stein reminded me. "If you harm him you'll have to answer to Lord Death."

"I think I could manage," I growled as the boy tried to adjust my sleeve again. "Stop it, Reaper Boy!"

"What is wrong with letting me fix your symmetry!?"

"The part where you're touching me when I specifically told you not to!" In an act of childish petulance he stuck a finger in front of my face.

"I'm not touching you!" he said.

"Would you like me to start calling you the Incredible Bouncing Toddler? Because I swear to God I will fling you so hard across this courtyard your ass will skip across the flagstone."

"YOU TWO!"

Both Reaper Boy and I sheepishly looked over at a fuming Stein.

"KNOCK IT OFF AND START THE TOUR!"

"Yes, sir," Reaper Boy sighed. I just muttered a string of insults as I followed him.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Kid's POV

_That insolent, asymmetrical, snarky bitch!_ I thought as I flopped onto my bed with my hands covering my face. The tour had gone horribly, with two more near fights (regrettably initiated by me) and several threats on my life. The scariest part was that I had a good mind to believe her when she said she would stick her foot so far up my ass that the sweat on the back of her knee would quench my thirst. My stomach felt queasy just thinking about it. I hadn't even learned anything about her, other than that she was an insolent, asymmetrical, snarky bitch. I couldn't take my eyes off that scar on her jaw for the life of me, but she made a point of guarding her other cheek from receiving a similar treatment, even for symmetry's sake.

I rolled over on to my stomach and faced the mirror my father had placed opposite my bed. Stretching out my arm, I wrote out my father's number on the glass and watched as his shadowy form materialized behind it.

"Hiya, Kiddo!" he chirped. "What's up, son?"

"Hello, Father," I greeted him, failing to suppress a small smile at his chipperness. "I was wondering if you could give me any information about our new student. She was a little... standoffish."

"Stein had told me she was a 'bitch,'" he sighed. "I'm not quite sure why I didn't believe him."

"Professor Stein knows her?" I pressed.

"Stein has a habit of walking around Death City with Spirit in the wee hours of the morning."

"What does he do? And what does that have to do with his relationship to the new student?"

"He fights crime," Father chuckled. "I think he's trying to relive his glory days. Anyway, he spotted a figure breaking into a grocery store, so he and Spirit tried to stop the robbery. But he found that the burglar was an excellent fighter. In fact," he paused briefly, as if he couldn't believe it himself, "he told me that the fight ended in a draw they were so evenly matched. And that was with Spirit on Stein's side. The burglar merely used random broom handles or loose bricks. Whatever it could get its hands on."

"Let me guess - the burglar never actually tried to attack them?"

"Right you are," he responded. "Spirit had said it was like it was toying with them."

"And, the burglar was the new student?"

"Right again." This whole thing was ridiculous! She tried to break into a supermarket in the wee hours of the morning and ended up coming to a stalemate with who was probably the world's best meister? I didn't quite buy it.

"And why exactly did you admit a burglar to the DWMA?" Father merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Stein told me she was an excellent fighter and could be useful," he answered. "I figured her outstanding service would outweigh any possible propensity for petty theft."

"You do have a point, but you still haven't fully addressed my original inquiry. Who is she, exactly?"

"Well," he searched his memory and rested his chin in the crook between his thumb and forefinger, "we don't know much, as she seemed incredibly hesitant to reveal any personal information. Stein was able to coax a bit from her, but not much. All we know is that she is eighteen years old, ran away from home when she was fifteen, and is named Riley."

"And is a world-class meister," I added skeptically. "Are you sure we can trust her? Someone able to withstand Stein's attacks may be more than just an ordinary meister. What if she's a witch?"

"I trust Stein's judgment. He was able to tell that Nurse Medusa was a witch by sheer intuition, and he says that she's just a normal girl with ninja-like reflexes."

"If you say so," I sighed and rested my chin on the bed. After a comfortable silence Father spoke once again.

"So I heard she's quite the wit."

"Don't get me started," I groaned. "She threatened to cut slits in the side of my neck and hold me underwater for twenty minutes to see if they develop into gills."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Riley's POV

I looked myself over again. It was quite a contrast – the dingy mirror on the back of the janitor's closet door and me in an evening gown. Long red swaths of lace draped over black satin and skated over my hips to the floor, while the high collar and long sleeves permitted no skin to show through. My hair hung in long, flowing brown waves to hide the majority of my face, and what little of my face was left visible was significantly altered by makeup and latex. I was unrecognizable.

"Hey, Sanguine!" a voice called from the other side of the door. The manager of the restaurant. "Your shift's comin' up in five minutes. Just thought you should know."

I opened the doorand stepped out into the hallway, the clicks of my black high heels following me.

"I know," I said. "I'm just really nervous." The manager gave a low whistle and his eyes nearly popped from his head.

"You shouldn't be nervous 'bout your performance, sweet cheeks. Even if you stink to high heaven nobody's gonna care as long as they can get a look at you." I gave him a small smile even though the way he looked at me sent a shiver up my back. I checked the clock on the wall. Two minutes to show time.

"Thanks again, Randall," I said as I turned to wait at the end of the hallway.

"Hey, Sanguine!" he called.

"Hm?"

"The boss wanted me to tell you that –"

I was suddenly aware that the music had stopped. The deep voice of the restaurant's owner sounded from the main room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a big round of applause for our next performer, Katy Sanguine!"

"Gotta run, Randall!" I called back and walked into the main room only to be faced with an ebony-lacquered behemoth – a grand piano.

_Shit_.

Kid's POV

"Come on, Kiddo!" Patty's voice whined from the other side of my bedroom door. "We're gonna be late to dinner!"

"Kid, if you are obsessing over symmetry just come out here and I'll fix it," Liz added.

I was standing before my mirror meticulously inspecting my suit for asymmetry. My weapons and I were scheduled to join Maka, Soul, Black Star, Tsubaki, and Crona for dinner at the Sendera, Death City's nicest restaurant, to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the Kishin's defeat. While all my other friends were probably there by now, I had taken an extra thirty minutes to re-iron my suit upon noticing an asymmetrical crease.

"Kid, come on!" Patty whined. "We're hungry! And you know how Liz gets when she's hungry!"

"Me? I think he should be more concerned about _your_ hunger-rage. You nearly ran over a crowd of elderly pedestrians last time."

"They were hogging those free samples!"

I sighed at their antics, but I knew my weapons were right - they could be downright terrifying when hungry. So I checked my tie one last time and opened my door, only to find Patty with Liz in a chokehold.

"Oh, hey Kid!" she giggled when she saw me. "Sis and I just had a little disagreement."

"I can see that," I nodded to Liz's red face. "But if you don't let her go and come on we'll be even later to dinner."

"How the hell are we related?" Liz muttered and dusted her red cocktail dress off.

"Are you guys coming or not?!" Patty screamed at us. I sighed and started towards the door, for once fully confident that I had folded the toilet paper into a triangle.

In the car Patty sat in the passenger's seat (against my wishes) and commandeered the radio, turning the station to some god-awful pop radio with whiny teenagers singing about lost love and sex. I could hear the people in the next car over were practically howling with laughter, so I quickly rolled up the tinted windows and slapped off the radio. The moment that glorious, _glorious_ silence commenced Patty began to whine again.

"Kid! I was listening to that!"

"I can't take this anymore," I groaned. "Just this once, let me choose the station."

"But you'll just put on some violin music!" she protested.

"Exactly."

"Patty," Liz soothed, "he hasn't chosen the music once this month. I think it's his turn now."

"Ugh! Fine," Patty consented and slumped down in her seat. I immediately turned the dial on the radio and chose a classical music station, letting the strings wash over me like some kind of calming wave.

When we arrived at the Sendera I felt utterly refreshed. Vivaldi's Four Seasons had done me worlds of good; so much good, in fact, that I didn't bother to adjust a stranger's asymmetrical shoelaces as he left the restaurant. The act was not lost on Liz, who stared at me in wide-eyed wonder.

"Kid, are you feeling alright?" she asked me. "I can see dozens of asymmetrical things and you aren't having a panic attack."

I shrugged. "I'm just really relaxed from the music."

Liz tapped Patty on the shoulder and pointed out my calmness.

"I think we should let him choose the radio station from now on," Liz suggested and made my heart soar. "It might ease his OCD fits."

"Fine, but only if we get to listen to our music in the house," Patty pouted.

"No!" I snapped, then regretted it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound that harsh. How about we play my music in the car and at home, but I have to sit through whatever concerts you want to go to. Or at least pay for the tickets."

"Sounds good!" she chirped and skipped through the restaurant doors. Liz and I looked at each other with the same question in our eyes: _How is she so easily satisfied?_

"Perfect timing, Kid!" Maka smiled and pointed to the seat farthest from Black Star. I made a mental note to thank her for that after dinner. The waitress handed us our menus and swiftly returned to take our orders. After the last of us, Black Star, had ordered the chicken breast (undoubtedly because he wanted to be able to say "breast" without getting Maka-chopped), a man in a coat-tailed tuxedo stepped out in the back of the restaurant where a small raised platform acted as a stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a warm round of applause for our next performer, Katy Sanguine!" The restaurant complied and tittered with light, obligatory applause, then resounded with hushed whispers and wolf whistles upon the performer's entrance. Long brown hair covered most of her face, but what I could see was flushed ivory with piercing grey eyes defined by a dusting of gold. On her body was draped a long black and red dress that flowed like clouds as she moved in confident strides towards the Steinway grand piano in the center of the stage.

In other words, she was drop-dead gorgeous.

As she almost hesitantly placed her delicate fingers against the ivory keys, her fingertips slipped and created a discordant sound; that enticed an embarrassed giggle to bubble from her lips and earned a slight chuckle from the restaurant patrons. When she giggled, she turned her head directly towards our table and froze, then quickly snapped her head back to the keys.

"What was that about?" Liz whispered to Soul, the piano expert.

"She's incredibly nervous. Seeing someone's face makes it more real, like you actually have people there to watch you instead of an audio laugh-track." I could tell he spoke from experience.

Turning back to the performer we all watched with bated breath as she gingerly began to play.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Sitars? Been there. Flutes? Done that. Accordions? Easy. But the piano – I had never even touched one before. I was a fucking guitarist, not a pianist. What did the owner think he was trying to pull here? But if I wanted to get paid I would have to do as he asked; he was asking me to play the piano, and, no matter how unskilled in the area I might be, I would have to do it. I had rent to pay.

I hoped I looked confident striding towards the instrument despite the fact that I wanted to vomit. Sitting on the bench and gingerly scraping the plastic keys with my fingernails made me feel even worse. When I looked into the audience (a bad idea in and of itself) I saw Reaper Boy sitting directly in front of me; I almost passed out. In almost passing out I accidentally pressed my fingers into the keys, making a jumble of discordant sounds and earning a light laugh from the audience. I offered a sheepish grin to everyone but Reaper Boy.

_White keys make "whole" sounds, black keys make "broken" sounds,_ I thought, trying to get my bearings. _Keys right next to each other sound shitty, and so will keys with even numbers of keys between them. Repeating patterns, so they must be laid out in octaves..._

I let my instincts take over.

I started slowly, with simple, spaced out chords reminiscent of some sad movie soundtrack. My fingers slipping over slowly-warming chunks of imitation ivory, an eerie melody began to emerge and take over the piece. Then it slowly ebbed into something different, in shades of triumph and bronze. Everything became somehow "whole," like whenever golden hour light falls on your back and fills your chest up with that full feeling.

I regressed back into that sad movie soundtrack, ending with a finger pressed against a black key. Silence.

The entire restaurant erupted with applause. Even Reaper Boy's face broke into an awed smile as he gave me a standing ovation, an action quickly imitated by the rest of the restaurant patrons. It was then that Randall rushed out onto the stage holding, of all things, a classical guitar. He turned to me with a lopsided grin.

"I was trying to tell ya that the guitar was in the back room. I didn't know you played th' piano."

"Neither did I, I admitted lowly. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he gave me the guitar. The piano had been quite the adrenaline rush, but I didn't want to push my luck. I sat back down on the piano bench and began to pluck the strings on the guitar.

All that existed was me and the guitar, me and the music. The past, the DWMA, Reaper Boy – they all faded away as my instincts lulled me into a music-induced euphoria. If all of my life could have just been that, I would have been happy.

Kid's POV

I turned smugly to Patty.

"Do you still think classical music is boring?" I asked with a smirk.

"Nope!" she giggled. "But I still like my music better!"

Soul and I shared a glance of tortured disbelief, then slight relief when the Sendera's legendary speedy service brought us our food.

After dinner I slid behind the wheel of my car and revved the engine, pulled out of the parking spot, and drove down the highway. Patty had her phone out, intently staring at the screen and pressing her thumbs to it.

"What are you doing there, Patty?" I asked her, grateful for and curious about whatever could keep her so quiet.

"I was looking up that girl who played the piano!" she replied and looked back down at her phone. "It says that she's in a band called the Tenth Yard that's playing at the Halloween Bash at the event center next month.

Liz leaned her chin on the shoulder of my seat.

"I think this qualifies as a concert as per our agreement," she said.

"Well, I did make the offer, so I won't back out," I responded, happy they would be exposed to some decent music for once.

"Good! I hope you're ready to rock!" Patty giggled.

"WHAT!?" I screeched. I almost hit a tree.

"The Tenth Yard is a pretty reputable rock band here in Death City," explained Liz.

_Oh God,_ I thought as Patty cheered in the passenger's seat. _Why me?_


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Riley's POV

No matter how nerve-wracking that performance had been, it had been worth it. The owner had been so impressed he had paid me over two month's rent!

Back home, in that little eight-hundred square foot house, I finally changed back to myself. I peeled a perfect layer of latex skin to reveal my own face, scar and all. A few makeup wipes and a hairbrush later I was nearly back to my old self. The only thing that remained of my performance as Katy Sanguine was the dress.

I inhaled sharply. I didn't like to look at myself, but especially not my naked body. As I slowly pulled off the dress I remembered why.

I was covered in scars. Hundreds upon hundreds of scars laced together to create one huge wall of scar tissue that rippled as I moved. It rarely hurt anymore, but the memories... I put my head between my knees to ward off a panic attack.

_They make you look cool_, said the Voice.

_They make me look like I lost a fight to a cactus_.

I shook the Voice from my mind and took a shower, letting the sting of the hot water take up the majority of my attention. After showering I changed into a clean sweatshirt and sweatpants and collapsed back-first onto my bed. I stared up at the ceiling. Pushed into the ceiling with mismatched thumbtacks was a postcard from Dallas, Texas. I extended my arm up, like I was attempting to touch it, then curled my hand into a fist and let it thud back onto the lumpy mattress.

_Still upset about that? It was five fucking years ago, kid_.

I rolled onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow.

"I know," I groaned. "That's not something you get over. Ever."

_But didn't it feel good? Don't you want to feel that power again?_

"Why are you even here?"

_To tell you what you want. You know you want it._

"I don't want it, you freak of nature."

_Oh, really? I think you'll change your mind soon enough._

The Voice went into what could only be described as its nightly period of "sleep mode." With it gone I tried to forget everything it had said and just focus on my breathing, the ticking of my clock, and the way my head sunk into the pillow. But my mind kept wandering back five years and sending shivers down my spinal column.

There was no way I was going to sleep that night.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Kid's POV

"Again."

In agony I struggled to my feet. Professor Stein rested his chin against the back of his rolling chair, clipboard and pencil in hand, ready to record my performance on the new fighting technique my father wanted me to learn. With great difficulty I managed to send a small ball of my soul wavelength flying to the other side of the room.

"Again."

"Absolutely not," I grumbled. "I'm going to class."

"If you ever want to succeed your father you need to practice, Kid."

"I have been practicing!" I panted and pushed my sweaty hair from my face. "For two hours I've been practicing! I can hardly stand up!"

"Fine," sighed the professor. He made a mark on his clipboard. "Have it your way."

"I will have it my way," I retorted and slowly limped from the training room.

The DWMA's training room encompassed the entirety of the school's basement, meaning I would have to climb to flights of stairs in order to get to the main level. I groaned internally when I surveyed the challenge, but pressed on until I reached the top of both staircases. Upon finally reaching the main level I collapsed in a puddle of my own sweat on the cool wooden floor.

"Oh my God!" I vaguely heard someone gasp. The next thing I knew I was being lifted by my arms and dragged. When I opened my eyes I was confronted by the image of the dispensary.

"Hello, Maka, Soul, Kid-" Nygus stopped. "Oh my god, Kid!"

Nygus rushed over to me and laid me down atop a dispensary bed. I groaned as my sore back hit the mattress, but I soon relaxed into it.

"What happened?" Maka asked worriedly.

"Stein pushed me too hard," I said groggily.

"I'll have to report this," Nygus said, reaching for the phone. "Stein is always pushing you too far."

"Stop," I said. "If you report this, Professor Stein wins."

The door opened and closed as someone came into the dispensary. Riley looked down at me and then back to Nygus.

"So what happened here?" she asked derisively.

"Shut up," I told her.

"Kid," scolded Nygus. She turned back to Riley. "How can I help you, Riley?"

"Sleeping pills," she said. "I was wondering if I could get a prescription or something."

"Well, I'm not a doctor. But," Nygus said as she walked over to the shelf opposite my bed, "I can give you some Benadryl."

"Thank you," she said. "And, Reaper Boy, I think most of your problems could be solved if you would stop being an idiot." She walked to the door.

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" I called after her.

"_Kid!_" hissed Maka.

"By all means, keep being an idiot. See how far it gets you."

"Asymmetrical bitch!"

"Call me what you will, but you still have to thank me."

"And why is that."

"My bitchiness has apparently given you the strength to stand," she said with a smirk.

"What?"

Looking down, I realized that my feet were firmly planted on the floor. Riley still had that infuriating smirk plastered on her face, her eyes still mocked me.

"Now if you'll excuse me," she said as she turned around, "I have to get to class."

Riley's POV

As aggravating as that boy was, he sure was fun to mess with.

I began the trek down the hallway with a ripped piece of paper clamped firmly between my thumb and forefinger.

"_Class Crescent Moon_," I murmured to myself, scanning the wooden signs which hung above every door.

"Hold on!" called a regrettably familiar voice. I turned on my heel to face him.

"What do you want?"

"What class do you have?"

"Crescent Moon. And I can find it myself, thank you very much." The paper bearing the class name was immediately ripped from my hand and held up to Reaper Boy's face.

"_Shit!_" he swore under his breath.

"What now? See an asymmetrical tile on the floor?"

"Very funny," he deadpanned. He surreptitiously checked the floor for such a tile. "I swore because it appears we have the same class."

"If it's any consolation I'm not exactly thrilled about seeing you every day, either." He wasn't listening. Instead he had woven himself between me and the wall and was straightening a picture that hung on the wall. I sighed. "You really need a hobby."

"And why is that?"

"It might take your mind off of all this symmetry stuff." He whirled around obviously livid.

"How can anything take my mind off of symmetry!? Symmetry is _life!_"

"But is it both love _and_ life?"

"Don't you quote that at me!"

"Maybe you could volunteer at the dog pound. You could make friends with all the other little bitches."

His face turned red and his hands clenched into fists.

"I could end you right now."

"And I could recommend some absolutely lovely anger management books."

By the time I reached the classroom the entire class was shocked to witness me walk in calmly with an absolutely fuming Reaper Boy grumbling insults at me.

"Kid!" Stein's voice bellowed throughout the classroom. "Would you care to explain why you just called our newest student a whore?"

The aforementioned shinigami turned sheepishly to face the professor.

"I-" he began.

"Never mind," Stein interrupted him, shaking his head. "Just find a seat. Preferably away from her." He nodded in my direction.

"Don't need to tell me twice," Reaper Boy glared in my direction before storming to the exact middle of the room. Figured.

Once the remainder of the class, including me, found its seats Stein began the lesson by opening a book and reading from it aloud.

"'A sound soul,'" he began, "'dwells within a sound mind and a sound body.'" HE then slammed the book closed and began to pass out papers to the class. "Here at the DWMA we pride ourselves on our physical strength, but our mental and psychological rigidity is somewhat..." his eyes flickered to the shinigami in the middle of the room, "lacking. That is why I'm assigning this project."

Loud groans echoed off the walls as he continued.

"This project is designed to strengthen your minds. I will be pairing you with people who will test you, stretch your patience, and disrupt your concentration until you think you might go insane. If you can deal with each other no kishin can stop you."

_Shit_.

I didn't work well with people. I _couldn't_ work well with people. Nothing good ever came from me collaborating with someone. Stein held up a torn-out sheet of legal paper and began to read.

"Black*Star with Crona!" he called. I faintly heard the pink haired boy in the opposite corner of the room say he didn't know how to deal with this. "Maka with Patty! Liz with Jacqueline! Soul with Ox!"

The list was fucking endless. With each pair Stein rattled off I gripped the desk tighter. By the time my name was called my knuckles were white.

"And Riley with Kid!"

I broke of the chunks of desk when I shot up.

"NO!" two voices shouted in unison. Reaper Boy had attached himself to Stein's lab coat and was groveling at his feet.

"Please don't make me do this!" he begged with tears in his eyes. "I don't think I can take it!"

"You are absolutely impossible!" I hissed and marched down to yank him off the ground.

"Aren't you upset about this?" he sniffed pathetically. He looked like a puppy.

An incredibly attractive puppy.

_Wait, no! Ugly puppy! Bad Riley!_

"Believe me, I'm just as upset as you are," I muttered. "Stein, could you please explain this to me?"

"Certainly," he replied with a curt nod. "You hate each other, so you're perfect partners for this project."

"Well, that clears it up."

"She's even sarcastic to teachers!" Reaper Boy wailed on the floor.

"At least I'm not in a puddle on the floor!"

"Okay!" Stein bellowed as he pulled us apart. "I will see you two on Friday after school in the training room."

"Fine with me," I spat. "I'll take it as an opportunity to make sure this jackass never procreates!"

"And I'd love to see you stuck on the wall like a swatted fly.

"BACK TO YOUR SEATS!" commanded Stein loudly. I climbed back to my seat in the back corner and slouched in the chair, pulling my hood over my head.

That week couldn't be over fast enough.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Kid's POV

That girl was going to get it.

The whole week had been dedicated to the project, which required Riley and me to spend nearly every waking moment together – lunch periods, study breaks, even mandatory skype calls. One particularly memorable lunch period culminated in her threatening to shove a chicken bone up my ass. The scariest part is that I knew she might actually try. The only thing keeping me somewhat sane was the promise of Friday's fight.

When Friday finally came, I was ecstatic. I couldn't wipe the malicious grin from my face all day, no matter how many people asked what was wrong with my mouth. And when the time came for me to head over to the training room, I nearly trampled several underclassmen running to the basement.

Once I arrived in the training room, already exhilarated, I noticed Stein and Riley waiting for me.

"You're late," Riley said.

"You're a bitch," I observed in the same tone.

"How astute of you. I was afraid you were too stupid to catch on."

"You two," Professor Stein warned. He began to give us our instructions. "I've called you down here as a stress reliever."

"Does that mean I can kill her to relieve the source of my stress?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, Kid," the professor sighed and continued. "I mean that you two just need to fight this out. For once, someone is telling you to _not_ use your words, so use this opportunity wisely."

"Stein, I don't think a physical confrontation is such a great idea," Riley said nervously.

"What? Are you scared?" I teased.

"Go!" Stein yelled and quickly backed away in his rolling chair.

He didn't have to tell me twice. Before he could finish the word I was swinging the first punch and she was making the first duck.

"Oh, so we're doing this again?" I snarled as she dodged a kick. To my fury she still had her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt.

_"__You don't even see me as a worthy opponent_," I growled. "_I'll have to change that_."

I assumed the new stance Professor Stein had taught me Monday. Concentrating on the racing thrum of my soul wavelength, I was able to build up a red ball of concentrated wavelength between my hands. I suddenly shot it at her, an attack which she miraculously dodged. Leaping to the rafters she perched herself atop one of the wooden beams that criss-crossed the ceiling.

"That all you got, Reaper Boy?" she taunted. I gritted my teeth.

"Don't _call_ me that!"

"Okay then. How about if you win this match I stop calling you 'Reaper Boy,' and if I win you have to spend twenty-four hours knowing that a painting, somewhere in this school, is tilted."

"Sounds fair to me!"

I hauled myself up to the rafter where she crouched, but she quickly dropped down to the floor and darted to a weapon rack. She grabbed a bamboo kendo sword and held it in both hands.

_There we go_.

I lunged, but she was ready, ducking and rolling with her sword flat against the ground. Seizing the opportunity I kicked it from her hand and into mine. I held it threateningly just above her jugular.

"Any last words?"

"Yeah," she smirked up at me.

She swept her leg under my feet and sent me toppling to the ground, then grabbed the sword and pressed it forcefully against my throat.

"_Reaper Boy_."

Both Professor Stein and I watched in astonishment as she lowered the sword, tossed it to the side, and began to walk from the room. I could feel my face heating up in rage. Against my will an enraged scream tore out of my throat. I leapt up and charged, grabbing the sword and swinging it at the backs of her knees. She collapsed into the wall, hitting her head with a heavy thud.

"Kid!" the professor yelled at me. "You could have killed her! She obviously won the match!"

I was immediately horrified with what I had done and dropped the sword.

"I don't know what I was-" I was cut off by the sound of muffled laughter. Whirling around to the wall, I saw Riley's crumpled figure shaking with bouts of hysterical chuckles.

"Oh dear God," I said while rushing over to where she was collapsed. "She's going mad, Professor!"

"Oh no," her voice echoed throughout the training room. "I've been mad for a while now!"

A string of mad giggles bubbled up from her throat, but they were... off, distorted somehow, like she wasn't really the one speaking. Then she whipped her head around and stared at me with crazed eyes.

Crazed, _blood red_ eyes.

I took a terrified step back as she collapsed into herself again, this time looking back up with horror in her grey eyes. I realized the position I was in: looming over her like a predator. She started to hyperventilate. When she opened her mouth to speak I was sure she would scream at me to get off; but, instead, she whispered to me.

"_Run_."

"What?"

When I didn't immediately comply she planted her feet so firmly against my chest that I felt the cartilage on my sternum pop as I flew into the opposite wall. She bolted from the room more quickly than I had ever seen anyone run.

"What the hell was that?" a shocked Stein asked. He was staring after her with eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Terrifying," I answered, grimacing at the pain in my chest.

Riley's POV

_Run run run run run._

I bolted out the door and flew up the stairs, ripping the door off one of its hinges as I flung it open. The door knocked over several straggling students, but that was of no consequence. Their injuries would be far worse if I didn't get away from them.

The rubber soles of my shoes pounded against the black asphalt as I ran toward the black swath of forest at the edge of the campus. Breaking through the tree line I felt the steady pinprick whips of tiny pine needles against my face, wind pressing my clothes flush against my body.

_Now, wasn't that fun?_

_Go away!_

I screamed into the sky. I had to drown out that Voice. It sounded so _good_ to lose control, it had _felt_ so good.

"She's over here!" I heard someone yell behind me. The yell was accompanied by the fast-thudding footsteps of booted feet. I was suddenly lifted into someone's arms and dragged back the way I had come.

"NO! PUT ME BACK!" I shrieked. If they took me back to the DWMA who knew what I would do!

"No can do, sweetheart," grunted the man holding me. "Stein gave us orders."

Then I felt something hit the back of my head repeatedly, and the world slowly faded into black.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Kid's POV

The pain was excruciating, but that wasn't what dominated my thoughts. My mind was filled with Riley and the incident in the training room. What the absolute hell had just happened?

I lay in my dispensary bed gazing at a beautifully symmetrical painting when Sid burst through the door carrying the girl. He gently laid her on the bed next to mine and sat down in a chair, out of breath.

"I know she's tiny, but she's really light," he panted while massaging a sore arm.

"Then why are you panting?"

"It took a lot to knock her out," he said.

"How hard did you hit her?" I asked. He almost laughed.

"I thought my arm was going to fall off. I've hauled around my own gravestone and all I managed to get out of her was a little trickle of blood! She's made of tough stuff, Kid."

"Believe me," I winced as I tried to sit up. "I know."

We both fell silent, probably wondering the same thing: _Who is this girl?_

And as I saw her sleeping face suddenly contort into one of agony in her dreams, it was all I could do to force myself not to care.

Riley's POV

When I awoke everything was foggy. Even sounds were foggy, if that could happen. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I felt like the blanket on top of me weighed a thousand pounds.

_Wait... blanket?_

I forced my head up and, after the initial dizziness had passed, saw that I was back in the dispensary. The window and room were dark, and the clock on the table beside my bed read 11:00 p.m. Saturday. I let my head fall back onto my borrowed pillow and instantly regretted it; the claw clip in my hair dug painfully into my scalp. Letting out a groan I unwittingly alerted the person the next bed over to my consciousness.

"Welcome back, sunshine," a voice snorted.

_Why me?_

"What do you want, Reaper Boy?" I groaned, covering my face with my hands.

"Well, I'd really like to be able to walk and shower but that's not happening anytime soon."

"Even in the fucking dispensary you are impossible," I half-chuckled behind my hands. "How bad did I hurt you?"

"Cracked rib," he grimaced. "Cartilage on my sternum popped."

"Oh my God," I moaned. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," he sighed. "Shinigamis heal exponentially faster than humans, so I should be free to go by Monday."

We fell into a comfortable silence, somehow enjoying each other's simple and _silent_ presence. I turned away from him and looked out the window, delving into that dark swath of forest on the edge of campus.

My reverie was shattered by Reaper Boy's voice tentatively breaking the silence.

"Riley?"

"Hmm?" I murmured into the pillow.

"What was that?" he broached. I instantly stiffened, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing at full attention.

"What was what, Reaper?" I asked gruffly.

"Yesterday. Your eyes-" I interrupted him by throwing the covers from my body and standing up.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I pulled on my right shoe.

"Yes you do, and where do you think you're going?" I had pulled on my other shoe and was making for the door. "What about your head?"

"I've had worse." I grabbed the doorknob.

"A 300-pound zombie bashed your head in with a brick."

_300 pounds... That's like two of the guys-_

"Stop," I thought. It wasn't until Reaper Boy was replying that I realized I had said it out loud.

"I'm just a little curious as to-"

I marched over to the painting in front of his bed and tilted it before storming from the room.

"YOU BITCH!" I heard him scream through the door as I walked down the hallway, hood over my head and hands in my pockets.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Kid's POV

Monday was torturous. My body may have healed, but my mind was roaring with irritation. I hadn't slept in two nights because nobody had been able to straighten the painting correctly! The next time I saw that girl, I _swore_ I would-

I was distracted by the sound of someone sitting in the seat beside me.

"What's up, asshole?" Riley greeted me with a smirk.

"You know exactly what's up, bitch," I growled at her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa now!" I heard Liz's laughter from behind me. "What's with the name-calling?"

"_She _was the one who tilted the painting!" I complained. To my horror, my weapon and Riley wordlessly high-fived. "Oh come on!"

"No, _you_ come on, Kid!" Liz said as she pulled up a chair beside me. "This isn't you. You've never been a bully before."

"That was before _she _showed up," I jerked my thumb in Riley's direction.

"Calm your tits, Reaper Boy," Riley chuckled at me.

"My tits are not calm!"

Unfortunately, the whole class had heard that.

"Well, you certainly know how to put on a show," Liz snorted. Professor Stein decided to make his entrance then, holding a slip of paper.

"Riley? Kid?" he called us down. Upon going to the front of the classroom, the professor addressed us.

"As per the DWMA's tradition, we need to find Riley a weapon," he explained.

"And what exactly does this have to do with me?" I asked.

"You are her partner for this project, and I deem this to be part of the project," he said.

"So what exactly is the weapon-pairing procedure here?" Riley asked the professor.

"I've already gathered all the unpaired weapons in the training room. I'll take you down there and let you try them to see which you can most easily resonate with."

"I don't know, Stein," she picked at her nails. "I don't work well with people. I mean, look what happened to this big idiot," she gestured to me.

"What did you just call me?"

"I thought you'd be used to the name by now," she spat at me.

"Okay, time to go," Professor Stein gave a nervous laugh and dragged us into the hallway.

Upon arriving at the training room we saw four students from our class and another from the class below us. They all beamed at us, but Riley merely looked around nervously.

"I have a _really_ bad feeling about this, Stein," she warned the professor.

"Youll be fine, don't worry," he said, fishing his buzzing cell phone out of his coat pocket. "Shoot. I need to go to the Death Room," he looked at the screen. "Kid, you know what to do." With that, he hurried out of the room and into the stairwell.

"Okay, then..." I began, "How about we have Holly up first."

The blonde girl from the class below us timidly stepped toward us, blushing furiously.

"H-hi," she greeted us, her eyes shyly looking up at me more than once. I felt a swell of smugness in my chest as I turned to Riley.

"See?" I gestured to the weapon. "_She_ thinks I'm attractive." Holly turned beet red and Riley placed her hand on my mouth.

"Shhhh," Riley hushed without looking at me. "No more words." I swatted her hand away.

"The next time you do that, I'll lick your hand," I threatened before turning back to Holly. "So what kind of weapon are you?"

"I-I'm a rapier," she stammered and looked at her feet. Riley immediately adressed the next weapon.

"You," she barked. "What are you?"

"_Bitchy much?_" I muttered under my breath. Ignoring me, the weapon answered her.

"I'm a r-rifle," he murmured.

"And you?" Riley went down the line.

"B-bow."

"And you?"

"N-nunchucks."

The first four weapons seemed to be incredibly intimidated by her, but the last one stared defiantly in her direction.

"And you?" she addressed him.

"Spear."

Riley's eyes widened and she smirked.

"Would you mind if I tried you out?" she asked.

"Not a bit," he grinned in return.

In a flash of light he transformed into his spear form and landed in Riley's hands. But the moment he touched her, he tranformed and scurried away from her with a terrified look on his face.

"W-what was that?" he stammered.

"I don't know," Riley answered him. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"What happened?" I knelt by him.

"I-I was on fire! The minute I was in her hands I was on fire!"

All eyes turned to Riley, but she looked just as surprised as the weapon.

"Could I try resonating with another one of you?" she asked. Holly stepped up and opened her soul to her, and Riley did the same. Moments later they backed away panting.

"I felt like I was burning!" the weapon whimpered and ran from the room. The rest of the weapons gathered experienced the same thing, and Riley looked exhausted. In a frightened huddle the weapons fled the training room, leaving only me and Riley, who was staring at her hands like they were monsters.

"Do you have any idea what that was?"

She shook her head and answered me. "Not a clue."

"Well, that gets us places," I chuckled weakly. _What on earth is going on?_

"_I knew this was a bad idea_," I heard her mutter.

"Why?"

"I'm not all that sure," she replied. "I just... don't work well with people."

Suddenly an idea popped into my head.

"Hey," I got her attention. "Have you ever resonated with anyone before?"

"No."

"That might explain things. Could I try resonating with you?" She set her jaw in response.

"I'm not too keen on the idea of connecting souls, Reaper," she said lowly.

"Well, it's either me or Professor Stein," I huffed.

"No, not that, I mean - ugh!" she grabbed at her head before looking back up at me. "I don't want to connect souls with _anyone_."

"Then why did you even come here? This school is based upon soul resonance." Her face clenched in frustration.

"Stein," she said. "He told me he could make me stronger."

"And you accepted an offer from a screw-headed madman who promised to make you stronger?" I asked incredulously. "Why the hell would you that?"

"Revenge. I've got some people to get back at."

"Okay," I trailed. That wasn't exactly the answer I had expected. "You're not going to get strong enough for revenge without a weapon."

"I'll just use non-human ones," she said. "I assume your father told you my story. I'm not some pitiful little girl who can't fight."

"This school is designed to create Death Scythes, not just to train meisters."

"Fuck the police!" she screamed and stormed from the room.

That's when I started howling in laughter. This entire situation was just ridiculous - a snarky loner girl with color-changing eyes who can fight has just entered the DWMA and has already kicked my ass.

Riley's POV

_Having fun yet?_

_Oh shut up_, I thought as a huffed through the hall back to class Crescent Moon.

_Don't tell me you didn't feel it. The power surge whenever you touched those weapons?_

_I hurt them. That is inexcusable and you know it._

_But they're just weapons! We've only been here a week and we already know that weapons have to be prepared to die for their meisters. They're disposable!_

_They're people!_

By this time I was standing before the door to class, so I walked in to find it had been cancelled. Stein was merely sitting in his squeaky rolling chair and reading the _Death City Advocate_. Upon noticing my entry he asked me about my weapon choice.

"I didn't pick one," I sat cross-legged on his desk. He fell completely still.

"What do you mean, you didn't pick one?" he asked.

"I mean that I didn't pick one," I exasperatedly replied. "More accurately, none of them could stand me."

"Did you insult their mothers or threaten to hurt them?"

"No. The minute we tried to resonate they broke away and said they felt like they were on fire." Stein's eyes widened behind his glasses.

"That _is _unusual. Did you try resonating with all of them?"

I nodded in response. "I'm not opposed to being weaponless, you know. I don't like working with other people."

"That's fairly obvious, but meisters are markedly more powerful when wielding a human weapon. If you really want to get stronger, you need to be able to resonate with one."

"Sorry if I don't like the idea of people being an audience to my freakshow of a mind," I grumbled and rested my chin on my fists.

"Did you even try to resonate or were you too concentrated on blocking off your mind?"

"I genuinely tried, but I was going to sever the connection after a few seconds."

"Do you think you would be able to resonate with a meister?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Maybe," I shrugged, "as long as it's with you. You're already messed up enough. I don't want to make anyone else go insane."

"Fair enough," he replied and sat straighter in his chair. "Would you like to try now?"

"Sure."

With that a light blue orb faded into place around Stein and began to wispily reach out to me. Steeling myself, I tried to push my own blue soul out to meet his. The moment our souls touched, Stein fell out of his chair and severed the connection,looking up at me with an almost blank expression.

"Did you feel like you were on fire?" I asked him with a sigh. He shook his head dumbly.

"I felt like I was drowning," his voice shook almost impercetibly.

"Maybe that's because you're a meister."

Stein nodded in agreement as he stood and dusted himself off. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to resonate with anyone just yet. Just... stick to normal weapons for now."

"Good idea."

Just then, Reaper Boy decided to join us.

"Hey, bitch," he greeted me.

"'Sup, asshole?"

Stein let out a tiny chuckle and reclaimed his place upon his chair. The shinigami looked down at the shaken professor and then back to me.

"Did you try to resonate with him, too?" he asked.

"Yup. Said he felt like he was drowning."

"Well, that's comforting."

"Yeah. I could just curl up with that knowledge on my bed on a rainy day." Reaper Boy chuckled at my deadpanned joke, and then the bell rang to signal the end of class. We all gathered our books and left for lunch. Upon our arrival at the cafeteria, we bought our lunches and headed outside. Finding our tree, the shinigami and I sat on opposite sides of the trunk and leaned against it.

"So," he broke the comfortable silence, "Do you have any idea what just happened back there?"

"Nope," I took a bite of my sandwich and grimaced. "God, this is bland."

"You're the first person I've met here that has said that," Reaper Boy's voice came around the trunk.

"Sorry if I insulted your precious academy," I scoffed and took another bite.

"Well, one, no you're not sorry, and, two, I'm not offended by that statement in the slightest. I actually agree with it."

I craned my neck around the tree trunk to stare at him. "Well, that's a first. You actually agreed with me."

"Ah, but you see," he jokingly held up a finger, "I said I agreed with your _statement_, not with _you_."

"I would like to think that my views are inextricably bound to me," I chuckled and returned to my original position.

"'Inextricably.' Big word for you. Good job."

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and rammed my back against the tree trunk, making it bounce back to hit my "friend" on the back of the head.

"Ow! You ruined our symmetry, you bitch!"

"I'm here anytime you need me," I said and continued eating that God-awful sandwich.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Riley's POV

By Wednesday, we were inseparable. Granted, it was because of knock-down, drag-out fights, but we were still constantly together. To everyone around us it looked as if our relationship was getting even _worse_ (if that was possible) but Reaper Boy and I had gained a mutual respect for each other's intellects, which was hidden beneath absolutely brutal insults.

"Scrawny insect!"

"Result of a broken condom!"

"Pansy-assed symmetry creeper!"

"Ok, touche."

"That's what I thought, asshole," I smirked as we walked into Stein's classroom. After everyone had arrived, the mad professor began passing back handouts.

"So, who still hates their partner after over a week of this project?" he asked the class. Nearly everyone raised their hands, including Reaper Boy and me. To my surprise, I found that _both _of us had extended our middle fingers as well. Stein merely sighed and grumbled something about owing Spirit twenty dollars. Then he turned back to the class and began explaining the handout we had received.

"This," he said, waving a paper over his head, "is the next step in your project. Tonight, you and your partner are going to ask each other these questions." I looked down at the paper that had just been placed on my desk and read it.

_Age, birthday, full name... Man, you're absolutely screwed!_

_Not yet, _I thought gruffly.

_You've lied about pretty much all of this!_

_No, I just haven't told anyone much of this stuff._

_Well, you're gonna have to start lying tonight. What are you going to do?_

_...Lie._

"_Riley?_" Reaper Boy's voice whispered. I turned my head and saw his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"_Sorry,_" I nervously whispered back. "_Just zoned out. Nothing important_."

"_If you say so_," he responded dubiously and turned back to the front of the class.

_Crap crap crap crap crap!_

When the bell rang an hour later, Reaper Boy turned to me again.

"My place? Right after school?" he asked.

"Well I sure as hell don't want you to have a symmetry fit at my house, so sure."

He gave a noncommittal shrug in reply and began to gather his books and symmetrically arrange them in a pile. I rested my chin on my hands and waited.

"Aw, how sweet," he mocked. "You're waiting for me."

"I'm waiting for you to drop a pencil that I can stab you with."

"Well aren't you just a little ball of sunshine?" he scoffed and stood with his symmetrical pile of school supplies.

"Well, you do tend to get _burned_ when you're around me," I snickered as I followed him out the door.

"Smart ass."

"Dipshit."

"Bitch."

"Asshole."

"Homosexual biscuit."

"Failed abortion."

"Ok, that's too far!" he dropped his books and sprinted back towards me. I took off immediately, racing down the hallway with Reaper Boy at my heels. I cackled madly as I tore through the empty hallways, occasionally glancing over my shoulder to see the shinigami grinning wickedly with his hair whipping out behind him.

"Hey, Reaper!" I called back at him.

"What do you want!?"

"Did your books drop symmetrically!?"

He stopped in his tracks with a wide-eyed expression of fear. Then he launched himself in the opposite direction with _me_ at _his_ heels.

_My, how tables turn_.

When we reached the place where he had dropped his books, we found them to be scattered haphazardly across the width of the empty hall in a very asymmetrical fashion. Reaper Boy fell to his knees with a strangled sob and began to pick up his books.

"_The symmetry!_" he wailed. "_Oh God, the symmetry!_"

As bad as I felt for him, I couldn't help the howls of laughter that escaped my throat. A few minutes later, when he had finally reorganized his books, he wiped his tears (with _two_ goddamn handkerchiefs) and turned on me.

"_You_ made me drop them," he snarled and pounced. My laughter was abruptly silenced as he pinned me against the lockers.

_He's too close, _I thought with a gulp.

_You know who else was too close?_

_Don't you dare bring that up._

_Like how they pinned you against the wall-_

Don't_._

_Like how the cuffs cut into your wrists-_

_Don't do this._

_Like how the wall left marks in your skin-_

_I can't breathe!_

_Like how their breath fanned over your face-_

_I... I can't..._

That was when the panic attack started.

Kid's POV

It wasn't me this time. _I _wasn't the one responsible for the _vileness _that was the asymmetrical mess on the ground – she had made me drop the books! In a fit of symmetry-induced madness I attacked her, pinning her hard against the lockers.

"_You did this_," I growled menacingly. I gripped her wrists a little tighter. Her grey eyes widened in an expression of fear, an expression I never thought I would see crossing her face. She let out a small noise. "That's right," I snarled. "Be scared, Riley."

"Reaper," she shakily whispered. "_Stop_."

"And why," I leaned closer to her, "should I do that?"

"B-because," she stammered in a hoarse whisper, "P-panic attacks, I..." She fell silent, eyes growing dull and unseeing.

"Riley?"

No response.

"_Riley?_" I pushed her wrists farther into the locker in the hope that the pain would snap her out of whatever was going on. I started to feel disgusted by myself. It was my duty as a shinigami to protect the innocent from threats, and, there I was, being the threat itself. If I couldn't even control myself how could I expect to be a good shinigami?

"_Dammit_," I groaned.

At the swear her head whipped back up to stare at me with dull, hard eyes. Then her knee came straight up to ram me in the crotch.

"Mother of God!" I squeaked as I fell to my knees and curled into a ball, trying to ignore the shooting pains suddenly taking over my entire abdomen. Through the lights dancing before my eyes I was able to process the image of Riley sliding down the locker to cradle her knees, face contorted in an expression of utter agony.

Then she let out a blood-curdling scream.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Riley's POV

_I stared into the face of another soulless man dripping with sweat and reeking of tobacco._

_ "__Dammit," he growled. "I'm gonna make you scream."_

_He pinned my shackled hands even further into the brick wall and split me in two._

Kid's POV

I was too incapacitated to realize I was being carried to the dispensary, but next things I processed were the cold sting of an ice pack against my crotch and Nygus standing at the foot of my bed. She was staring in the direction of the dispensary window, but I guessed she was looking at another bed. I craned my neck to follow her gaze, and my blood ran cold.

Riley was laid out on a bed, her fists forcefully clenching the bed sheets in pain. Her brows knitted together, her mouth opened in a silent scream, her back arched off the bed, her face turned red and knuckles turned white... it was the picture of absolute agony. Professor Stein sat at her bedside patting a wet washcloth on her forehead and murmuring to himself.

"Professor?" The scientist slowly turned his head in my direction, glasses glinting in the light of noontime sun.

"Well, look who's out of shock," he said.

"What's the matter with her?" I asked, ignoring his remark. His face softened into an expression I had never seen on him – sadness? Resignation? Worry? He sighed.

"Nygus and I think it's a flashback. Whatever you did to deserve a knee to the crotch probably gave her a panic attack and triggered an unpleasant memory."

"M-Me?" I objected. "What makes you think _I_ triggered it? For all you know she could have seen a certain time on the clock-"

"You're nineteen, Kid," Nygus interjected. "Use your brain. Why would she have attacked _you_ if you hadn't triggered this?"

I sank back down into the mattress. _I_ had done that to her?

_No. Someone else did that to her a long time ago. She probably deserved it for being such an asymmetrical bitch._

"One good thing to come of this is the insight it provides us," Professor Stein observed.

"What is this insight?" I asked.

"Well, we know that she probably has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD. Knowing that we might be able to find some kind of treatment for her."

I covered my face with my hands. I couldn't look at her; whenever I did I wanted to beat the living shit out of something.

""I think she's coming out of it," Nygus said. I forced myself to look back at her.

Her face was only scrunched in mild discomfort now, but she still let out the tiniest of whimpers as she turned her head restlessly. When she turned her head she exposed a tiny sliver of ivory skin... marred by three pink welts.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"What are those marks on her?"

The professor immediately looked down at the girl who had just thrown her head back to its original position.

"Where?" he asked while examining her.

"Right... there," I involuntarily rolled off the bed and made my way to her bedside, slowly reaching my hand out to move her shirt collar out of the way. The moment my fingertips brushed her neck, a hand snapped up to encircle my wrist in a death grip.

"Bad move," Riley growled and punched me in the face.

"Crap!" I screamed and covered my eye. That was going to leave a mark, and a very asymmetrical one at that.

"That's what you get for touching me, _Reaper_," she spat out that infuriating nickname. "I would have thought you'd have learned that from the last times."

"You bitch!"

"From the way you're whining about that punch I'd assume you're the bitch," she growled and slid from her bed.

"Well, hello there," Professor Stein said in mild shock. "Welcome back to reality."

"I'm taking the day off," Riley said gruffly.

"That's probably for the best," Stein conceded. "Do something relaxing. I'll give you two an extension on the questionnaire part of the project."

"Thank you, Stein," she muttered and walked out the door, leaving me holding my eye and gawking after her like an idiot.

_How could she have gone from a whimpering, PTSD-fit mess to a pissed off stoic in less than a second!? It doesn't make any sense! Are all women this confusing? I've lived with Liz and -_

"Oh, and Kid?" Professor Stein jolted me from my trance. "I want you to walk her home. Make sure she doesn't have another flashback in the middle of the street or something."

"I think she'd rather be hit by a car than have me walk her home, Professor."

"That may be, but I'd prefer not to lose a student."

I sighed in resignation and went to find Riley.

Riley's POV

_You should lighten up a bit, girl. He was just worried about you._

_Him? Worried about me? Please._

_Well, he must be worried enough to come after you. He's following you now._

As if on cue, Reaper Boy's voice called out behind me.

"Riley!"

"What. Do. You. WANT!?" I whirled around and screamed at him. "Do you want to feel up my neck again? Because that was creepy enough the first time!"

"That's not- No!" he caught up with me. "Professor Stein just told me to walk you home."

"I can take care of myself. Evidently I'm scary enough to make a shinigami piss himself," I motioned to the wet spot on his pants. He quickly covered the spot with his hands and gave me a seething glare.

"That is the spot from the ice pack Nygus gave me, no thanks to you!"

"What do you mean 'no thanks to me?'"

"While you were off in PTSD Land you kneed me in the groin!"

_"Please stop!" I cry at the ceiling while another man moves his hand faster. "Anything but this!"_

_"Your wish is my command," he sneers and aligns himself. Before he can do anything I raise my knee to his groin, causing him to fall to the ground in pain. When he finally stands back up, he is fuming._

_"Oh, you're gonna get it," he puffs, "_Riley. Riley? Riley!"

I quickly shook my head and regained my balance. Reaper Boy was shaking me by the shoulders and repeatedly screaming my name. I immediately pushed him away and warned him against touching me again before turning around.

"Where were you there?" he asked.

"On the sidewalk, you idiot," I grumbled and made for a bush on the side of the building. I knelt down and stuck my hand in its base, feeling for something thin and solid.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Why do you have all these flashbacks?"

I finally felt my skateboard and yanked it free from its hiding place.

"I'm going home," I told him with what I hoped was steel in my voice. "Don't follow me."

"I'm just here to make sure you don't glitch out in the middle of the freeway!"

"And how to you expect to keep up with me?" I threw my board on the sidewalk and steadied it with my foot. In response Reaper Boy stuck out his arm and closed his eyes. From the heel of his palm I saw a black object slowly emerging.

The moment the thing crested from his palm I felt like my head was splitting in two. It was like all my previous migraines, all my previous scars, and a jackhammer put together, all compressed into the back of my head.

It stopped as quickly as it started. I nearly collapsed panting at the release of my pain.

"What the hell did you just do?" I panted as I regained my balance.

"I just summoned Beelzebub – are you okay?" Reaper Boy's voice was laced with... concern?

"Who the fuck is –"

I looked down to see a black skateboard emblazoned with the image of a shinigami skull.

"How did you do that?" I whispered in awe and confusion.

"Shinigami powers. Now answer me. Why do you want to know and are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" I swatted away one of his hands that was about to feel my forehead. "I'm interested because I... I think I felt it."

"What?"

"I think I felt Beelzebub," I repeated.

"How is that even possible?" a peal of nervous laughter escaped Reaper Boy.

"I-I don't know."

_You're some kind of shinigami. It would explain how-_

_No. There's only one family of shinigamis and I am _not_ a member._

"How do you summon him?" I asked.

"I just imagine him on the ground beside me. Riley, only shinigami can do th- MOTHER OF GOD!"

I had closed my eyes and pictured the board beside me, causing the shinigami to experience an immense amount of pain. I thought it would be enjoyable to hear him suffer, but it really just made my skin crawl.

When I opened my eyes, Beelzebub was at my side and Reaper boy was clutching his head while muttering a string of swears.

_Only shinigami can do that._

_Then I'm an exception._

_Oh really?_

_Yes really. End of discussion._

_Oh, no. This discussion is just beginning._

Kid's POV

We rode in silence, both trying to figure out how she could summon Beelzebub. She couldn't be a shinigami - we all look so similar, and there can only be so many at a time. So... how could she do it?

That night, I called my father in the death room. He faded into view in my mirror, big and ridiculous as ever; but this time not even his goofiness could make me smile. I had too much on my mind.

"Hiya, Kiddo! Why the long face?"

"It's nothing, Father. I-" _Oh crap! _I stopped when I realized I had no idea what to say.

I hadn't come up with a story as to how I came up with the idea of a non-shinigami summoning Beelzebub! What if Riley was something that was an enemy of the Academy? Somehow, I didn't quite like the idea of her dying, no matter how irritating she was.

"Hmmm?" Father craned his neck comically. "What is it, Kiddo?"

"Oh, sorry," I said quickly. "I was making sure I remembered all the details correctly. I was skating on Beelzebub today and was wondering if shinigamis are the only ones who can summon him."

Father was eerily still.

"Father?"

No response. This was starting to look a lot like what happened to Ril-

_Stop! Get her out of your head, Kid!_

I was shaken from my self-scolding when Father's voice came through the mirror once more.

"Yup! I've never heard of anyone but a shinigami being able to summon him!" he chirped happily. I curtly nodded my head.

"Thank you, Father. It was nice speaking with you again."

"Anytime, Kiddo! But," he added warily, "did you really just think that up while riding on Beelzebub?"

_He wouldn't ask that unless there was something else that could summon him, and he wouldn't use that tone of voice unless it was dangerous._

If I lied to my father not only would I be in trouble with the supreme god of death (which was enough to make my skin crawl), but I would also risk the safety of the Academy.

But if I told the truth, something might happen to Riley.

"I'm sure, Father," I said.

"Just making sure!" he held up a peace sign. "I'll see you later, Kiddo! Bye!" The mirror's connection rippled shut and I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

_You did it to save the project. You just did it to save the project. It doesn't actually matter if she dies._

I silently agreed as I flopped back on my bed.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Riley's POV

I was terrified. The little voice in my head wouldn't shut up the whole ride back, and it got even louder when I got home.

_Look at what you can do! Isn't that cool? Doesn't it make you wonder what other things you can do?_

_No. I'm fine. Ignorance is bliss, remember?_

I poured myself a glass of milk and downed it in two swallows before tossing the plastic cup in the sink, then I went to my bathroom. Once there, I filled the bathtub with water and laundry detergent and placed my sweatshirt in it to soak.

_All those badass scars and now the ability to summon a magical skateboard! Not to mention the fact that it hurts the shinigami whenever you summon him._

_Shut up. I don't like to hurt people._

_But he's not a person! He's a shinigami, and you could kick his ass if you wanted to! You should find out where he lives, and then, in the middle of the night-_

_Kill him? Yeah, I'm sure that would go over well with his father._

_Kill his father, too! While you're at it, kill the whole school! The whole town!_

By this time I had made it to my bed. At the voice's last comment I rolled over and groaned, covering my head with a pillow in a futile attempt to drown it out.

"Absolutely _not_."

_And why not? It would be great-_

"Fun? Oh, I'm sure it sounds like fun to you. _Your _idea of fun involves kicking puppies and mass homicide."

_It's your idea of fun, as well. I'm just a part of you._

"You are anything _but_ a part of me," I growled aggressively into my pillow. "You are an autonomous intelligence somehow attached to my consciousness."

_You sound like some bogus tele-psychiatrist._

"And _you_ sound like a homicidal maniac. Oh, wait. That's because you _are_."

_Guilty as charged. But that makes you one, too._

"And just what do you think you are?"

_I think you know _exactly _what I am. _

"Then shut up and let me figure it out. I need to get ready and you're just giving me a headache."

_You're the one who's just lying there in a puddle. If you need to get ready, get a move on!_

Thirty minutes later I was ready - backpack with "Katy supplies" and writing accoutrements slung over my shoulder, guitar in its case and in hand, phone and keys in pocket, and clean hoodie pulled over my head. After an hour of just waiting around I was kicking my skateboard out the door and heading for downtown Death City.

Tonight was band practice. My band, the Tenth Yard, was _finally _playing the Halloween Bash at the Death City convention center on Halloween night. We sounded alright – incredible, if I had to say so myself – but our stage presence was... lacking. In other words, we needed to practice.

When I finally rolled to a stop I was in front of Death City High School, the most popular school for adolescents in Death City and where our drummer and lead singer went to school. I hid my board in an empty locker and surreptitiously hurried to the girls' restroom, running into an out of order toilet stall and bolting the door closed. DCHS wasn't exactly keen on having visitors during the school day, but I needed to put on my disguise, a process which normally took about an hour.

I set the backpack down on the ground and dug through it, desperately digging my hand in between clothes and makeup sponges in search of my tub of liquid latex. When I found it I dabbed a sponge into the white liquid and began to stipple it all over my face, neck, and collarbone area to hide my scars.

When I was almost finished giving myself a new face an hour later, the most horrible sound in the world echoed through the halls.

The bell.

Almost immediately a horde of girls was pushing through the bathroom door, ready to sit on counters or hog bathroom stalls. I immediately jumped onto the toilet seat to hide my feet. The Voice sounded in my head.

_Backpack!_

_Shit._

My guitar was stowed expertly in the gap between the toilet tank and the toilet paper dispenser, my cosmetic supplies sat on top of the toilet paper dispenser, all out of sight – but my backpack lay open on the ground. The horde was millimeters from the door. I had milliseconds to jump off the toilet, grab the bag, and jump back on. It wouldn't work!

_Just use it..._

_No! I'll lose control!_

_Do you really have a choice?_

I looked both ways, then, reluctantly, felt a surge of power flow through my arm and out of my left palm.

The backpack came rocketing into my hand, leaving no trace of my presence. A small shiver of euphoria ran down my spine as I relished in the feeling of exercising my... abilities. The chatter of girlish voices changed into distinct conversations.

"Did you see Carla's shoes today?"

"Those stripper shoes?"

"Yeah. She's such a slut!"

"Just begging for it... Where do you think she got them?"

"I don't know, but I think they'd look hot on me!"

I rolled my eyes and held back vomit. _This_ was why I hated other girls.

_You could always beat them senseless._

_They're already pretty senseless._

"And Jenny's hair was just awful!"

"I could see her roots."

"You know I'm in here, right?"

"Oh! Jenny, what's up?"

_Yep. Definitely senseless._

_So you would just be beating the equivalent of a pile of rocks._

_Probably... wait, no! I am NOT considering actually doing it!_

_Could've fooled me._

"What about that one chick in Spanish with us?"

"Sam Woolworth?"

"No. The one with pink tips on her hair."

"Oh! Heather Stone!"

"Yeah! That's the one!"

The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I heard her name. Heather was The Tenth Yard's lead singer; a bit eccentric in her fashion choices, but she still had a great voice. Hearing her name on the lips of these plastic girls made my skin crawl. What if she was one of them?

"Did you know she has a band with Tyler Jameson?"

"Really? What kind?"

"Nothing you would like. It's really loud and dark."

"Are you kidding me? I love metal!"

"Oh please. The hardest rock you listen to is Lorde."

"LORDE HAS HER MOMENTS!"

"Ladies, ladies!" a new voice chuckled. "Let's get back to the subject at hand here: Heather Stone."

"Oh, right!" the Lorde addict chirped. "What about her band?"

"Well, I heard it's going to be playing at Halloween Bash!"

"No way! _The _Halloween Bash at the convention center?"

"The very one."

_I guess the Bash is pretty popular among the common folk._

_Cool it, sassy. Neither of us are all that high on the social ladder._

_I'm still higher than you. I'm my own intelligence, according to you._

_That doesn't grant you social status. That just makes me insane._

_You said it yourself._

_You act as if it's an insult._

"So, what about the Bash?" the peacekeeper asked. "What's so important about going just because Stone's band is there?"

"Sabotage."

_WHAT!?_

The Lorde addict giggled wildly. "I love a good scheme! Especially when it's against weirdos!"

"As do I. Let's go somewhere... more private," I could practically hear the peacekeeper's eyes scan the thinning crowd in the bathroom. The clack of heels and the slam of a door told me they had left.

_Sabotage?_

_That's what they said._

_But, why? What could Heather have possibly done?_

_Listen, Interloper-_

_Whoa, what's with the nickname there?_

_People are mean. They don't _need_ a reason to do something horrible. If you're weak, you get hurt. End of story._

Once I was sure that I was alone in the bathroom, I stepped off the toilet seat and changed into my Katy clothes. I examined myself in the mirror, fixed my hair to cover most of my face, gathered my things, and headed for the band hall. When I arrived, everyone was already there and waiting.

"'Bout time you showed up, Katy," snorted the drummer, Tyler.

"Excuse me for getting caught in the girl's bathroom."

"Eat a bad burrito or something?" I heard Kyle, our bassist, ask dryly.

"You guys suck," I muttered under my breath and opened my guitar case. My guitar was perfect, my salvation: its sleek black body and silver bridge and tuning knobs made me salivate, and its sound was to die for.

"If you're done lusting over your guitar," a voice called, "we're all ready to start, Katy."

"Heather," I addressed her with a nod. I didn't consider any of my bandmates to be friends, and this was definitely true with Heather. We were similar enough - at times our similarity was creepy - but she never seemed... sincere.

_Tell them about the conversation._

. "Heather, when I was in the bathroom, I overheard some girls talking about you and Tyler."

"What?" she half-chuckled. "I didn't expect to be talked about. What did they say?"

"They said they were planning to sabotage us at the Halloween Bash."

The whole room went silent. After a moment of silent shock, Heather snapped.

"WHAT?"

"I don't know what they'll do," I continued, "but they seemed like the stereotypical-"

"Josie, Carmen, and Isabella," Tyler suddenly spat.

"What?" I asked. "How did you-"

"If they're stereotypical, it's those three."

"Was one obsessed with Lorde and one keeping peace between her and her friend?" Heather asked me with fear etched onto her face.

"Yeah. Are they bad news?"

"Very, _very_ bad news, Katy!" she ran her fingers through her hair and started pacing. "The last time they bullied someone, the poor guy ended up losing his house in a fire!"

"The time before that a girl killed herself," Tyler added with a grimace.

"What could these people have possibly done to deserve that?" I asked nervously. Heather whirled around with dark humor in her eyes.

"Absolutely _nothing_, Katy Sanguine. _Nothing._"

_You already knew the answer to that._

_I needed some kind of validation._

Heather had resumed pacing while Tyler, Kyle, and Stanley (the rhythmic guitarist) stood in a state of shock by their instruments. The singer was nervously pulling at her hair and picking at her chipped nail polish. Then she suddenly turned to us and giggled sadly.

"I can't do this!"

"WHAT!?" was the communal reply.

"We have three weeks before the Bash and you're quitting!? Absolutely not!" Tyler shook her by her shoulders.

"_You_ are the reason anyone even comes to see us!" Stanley added. "Without you, we're nothing!"

"I have a sister to think about!" small tears leaked from her eyes. "I can't let her get hurt because of me! I can't let her get hurt at _all_!"

"We can protect her for -"

"Let her leave."

_Lucy's hand absently traces patterns on my back as I try to fall asleep. The bed is hard and cold, but her hand is warm. I turn over to look at her._

_"Watcha thinkin' 'bout, sis?" I ask her in my six-year-old voice._

_"Just... things," she sighs and stares at the ceiling._

_"You're lying!" I giggle and crawl on top of her, tickling her on the sides of her neck. "You're thinking about something more pacific than that!"_

_"_Spe_-cific, little sis," she corrects with a smile before tickling me back, sending me toppling backwards onto the bed. We're both grinning like clowns when she speaks up. "You're too smart, you know?"_

_"There's no such thing as too smart!"'_

_"Not always, but sometimes knowing things can get you in trouble."_

_"But then you can just learn more things to use to get you _out_ of trouble."_

_Lucy sighs and flops back. She glances at the clock and sighs again. I look, and the red numbers flash 11:00 p.m. Lucy looks worried about something, and I wonder if she is in trouble._

_"Lucy?" I say._

_"Hmm?"_

_"I'll protect you from trouble," I assure her as I cuddle into her embrace._

_As she nuzzles her face into my hair, I fall asleep, but not before I hear her whisper: "I'll protect you, too."_

"What there any way to protect your sister if you're still in this band?"

She shook her head.

"Then leave," I commanded, voice hopefully devoid of emotion. "Do what you have to do. But promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't you _dare_ let her get hurt," my voice caught a bit.

"I won't," she promised. The eye contact we shared was the most profound conversation I may have ever had in my lifetime.

And then she turned around and left us.

When the door had shut behind her, Tyler suddenly grabbed me by the arm. I flinched out of his grip.

"What have we discussed about touching me?"

"You have to sing," he stated bluntly.

"_Excuse me?_" I squeaked. "I don't-"

"You just let Death City's best singer walk away. And don't even start about not singing because that's a lie."

"What do you mean?" I started to back towards the door.

"I mean," he blocked my escape by putting himself between me and the exit, "that I've heard you sing before."

"When did you hear that!?"

"A couple of months ago you were writing music on a napkin and singing it to yourself."

I remembered it quite clearly. I had sat in a chair waiting for Kyle to show up with a paper napkin draped over my knee. That was the day I decided to pack paper in my backpack for band practice.

"You heard wrong," my normally steady voice wavered again.

"I have _excellent_ hearing, Sanguine. You can sing."

"But can she sing _well_?" Stanley's voice asked from behind me.

"No!" I almost screamed. "I'm terrible! That's why I'm a guitarist!"

"Bullshit! You're great! Stop lying and just sing!"

"You can't hurt me," I growled at Tyler.

"We don't have a choice about singers, Sanguine. Nobody else from this school or _anywhere_ is going to join this band of weirdos! We are on our own! You are all we have because Stanley and Kyle would vomit and pass out and I can only carry a tune in falsetto! I sound like a goddamn toddler! Now I know you need the money from this gig! I know you live alone because you hate people! You can't give up on this and you can't back down from this so you're singing no matter what! We can't let the Tenth Yard die!"

"Jesus, FINE!" I finally screamed and pushed him away from me, panting. "I'll be the goddamn singer!"

"Good!"

"But I'm not singing any love songs!" I add quickly. Tyler turned back to me and quirked an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't expect you to. You are an utterly unlovable person."

_That sounds all too familiar._

_Shut up. I need my head for singing, apparently._

_Have fun, Unlovable._

_Great. Interloper and Unlovable. The inseparable duo._

_At least it's better than the Reaper and Riley show._


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Riley's POV

I woke up the next morning to eight loud knocks on my door and a scream.

"GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED, BITCH! IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL!"

"Holy mother of God!" I screamed and grabbed at my covers, unable to stop myself from falling out of bed. I quickly pulled on my now dry hoodie, jeans, and sneakers before spinning my hair into a clip. Stomping to my front door, I violently swung it open to face a smirking Reaper Boy.

"What the hell do you want?" I growled and threatened him with my skateboard.

"I've been commissioned to be your escort, m'lady," he snorted sarcastically with a slight bow. I hit him over the head with my skateboard.

"I don't have the time or the patience for this right now! I am _not_ a morning person and dear god don't look at-"

"GAH! The symmetry is off!"

_Havoc mode: activated_.

Captain Asshat had peered around my head to look into my house, which was incredibly asymmetrical. He bolted past me and ran straight to my coffee table, arranging papers to be symmetrical. I marched up to him and _literally_ kicked him out.

"Holy crap!" he moaned outside and rubbed his butt.

"That is what you get for breaking and entering, _Reaper_," I spat his name and locked my door. "Go ahead and leave. I don't need your escort service."

"As much as I would love to not have to deal with you, Professor Stein has offered us bonus points on our project if we travel to school together at least thrice a week."

"Stein is an _idiot!_" I screamed and kicked my door in frustration. Not surprisingly, the force of my kick left a significant dent in the metal door. Reaper Boy looked at it in shock.

"How are you strong enough to do that?" he asked, still ogling the dent.

"I'm a professional ass-kicker," I retorted. "My leg gets a lot of exercise." I threw my skateboard to the ground, hopped on, and pushed off, sailing down the street towards the DWMA at an impossible speed.

_Let's see him try to catch me now_.

Suddenly, I felt that awful pain and heard a deep _whoosh_ above me. I looked up.

_It flies. Beelzebub flies_.

Reaper Boy descended next to me and grinned wickedly.

"You have a magical flying skateboard that you can pull out of thin air whenever you need it! A goddamn _magical flying skateboard_!"

"And it can go a hell of a lot faster that that puny little thing you're riding on," he taunted with a smirk.

"You wanna bet, Reaper Boy?"

"Absolutely." And he took off flying.

_Oh, he is so on._

Miraculously, it was a tie. I skidded to a halt without breaking a sweat in the same moment that Reaper Boy stopped above the stairs.

"How did we tie!?" he called down at me, obviously surprised.

"Well, it happens when two or more people are evenly -"

"I understand the concept of a tie, smart ass."

"Always here when you need a wise crack."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

After he finally stepped off of Beelzebub (it only stung slightly when he recalled him), he nearly collapsed on to the steps. What stopped him?

My back.

He fell onto my back in a panting puddle, causing me to fall forward on to the stairs.

"Reaper!" I wheezed. "Get. Off. Of. Me."

"That's *pant* a first. Normally girls *pant* are begging me to *pant* get on."

_Vile, slime-sucking pig of a shinigami_. _Even non-human men only think about one thing._

"You are," I said with difficulty, "the single most difficult entity on the face of this planet."

"At your service," he laughed weakly and continued panting.

"Are you capable of getting off of me?"

"I don't *pant* think so. Beelzebub runs off of *pant* my soul wavelength. I don't think I can stand."

"Great," I wheezed again and stood up, carrying Reaper on my back. "Another visit to the dispensary."

We must have been quite the sight, a slightly ragged pair of enemies with one riding on the other's back. It was only then that I realized how ridiculously tall he was - his legs were practically longer than my whole body! When we finally made it to the infirmary, after having amassed a crowd of spectators, I flung him down on a bed and plopped down into a chair, slightly panting.

"How the hell are you panting a _little_?" he asked once his breathing had steadied. "You just carried me and vigorously skateboarded three miles." I merely shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm stronger than I look," I answered.

"And the door, and the crack in the training room wall, and the eyes-"

"_Stop_," I commanded him. He obeyed. Right on cue, Stein rolled into the dispensary with his clipboard in hand.

"I thought I might find you two here," he chuckled. "We should have reserved beds for you."

"What do you want, Stein?" I sighed and rubbed my temples. This whole thing - the project, the band, my whole ridiculous life - was getting way out of hand.

"Just making sure you didn't kill eachother," he looked at Reaper Boy. "It looks like you got pretty close, though."

"We had a skateboard race. Me on my normal board and him on his magical flying one." Stein chuckled and shook his head.

"Three miles at top speed and it's done this to him? I think our dear Kid here may be losing his touch."

"You bastard..." Reaper groaned. I laughed.

"We tied for the win, actually. I'd like to think that I'm better than someone beating a fading shinigami."

"Impressive. Are you sure that you weren't the one on Beelzebub?"

I wanted to tell him about being able to summon him, but something stopped me. A hand encircled my wrist tightly, and I looked down to see Reaper Boy staring at me as if in warning.

_Don't tell him._

_That does seem to be the message I'm getting, Interloper_.

"What is it?" Stein questioned.

"Oh, nothing!" I tried to laugh it off. "Reaper Boy here just doesn't want anyone to know that I'm as good as a shinigami."

His grip on my wrist loosened significantly and his chest drooped in mock defeat.

"And you went and told him anyway."

"Remember? Certified ass kicker. Liscensed to kick."

"And what does my ass have to do with any of this?"

"I kicked it in the race and I can kick it right here, right now."

"Is that a threat?"

"Make of it what you want. I'm going to the cafeteria to filch a couple of apples. _Somebody_ interrupted my morning routine, so I couldn't have breakfast," I laughed and got up from my chair.

"Bring me one!" Reaper Boy called after me. "You weren't the only one with a disrupted routine this morning!"

"I'll be sure to bring you the moldiest piece of fruit on the face of the planet."

"More protein for me."

"More _disease_ for you."

"If I get sick I would get to stay in here instead of talking to you!"

"Sounds good to me!" I said before turning to push the door with my back.

I had to admit. Reaper Boy was absolutely gorgeous when he smirked.

Kid's POV

When the door closed behind her I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Professor Stein obviously heard the exhalation because he turned to look at me.

"You two seem to be getting along swimmingly," he observed. I made a noncommittal noise and shook my hand.

"We have our moments," I replied. My mind was elsewhere. Why had I stopped her from telling Professor Stein about Beelzebub? I didn't care about her - hell, I hated her! But whenever I thought about her I suddenly felt protective. It was completely and utterly mind-boggling.

"Are you okay, Kid?" the professor interrupted my train of thought. "You spaced out for a moment."

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Is it Riley?" he asked. I turned my head to look at him and quirked a brow.

"What about her?" I asked a bit too quickly.

"Oh, nothing," he genuinely smiled. "I just never see you two apart. It's quite cute, actually."

"We are _not_ like that," I scoffed. "We'd kill each other before we were like that. And since when does the man who dissects live rabbits in his spare time find anything cute?"

"Since I've been hearing your insults in the halls," he responded. "She is..."

"Something else," I finished for him and ran my hand over my eyes. "She certainly does make my life interesting, I'll give her that."

"How so?"

_Well, she's ridiculously strong, she's fast, her eyes change colors, she's infected with madness, she's incredibly light but tough enough to withstand Sid's attack with a brick, she can summon Beelzebub-_

"She's snarky," I said instead. "She keeps my wit on its toes. And she can also kick my ass if I have a symmetry fit."

"That is quite interesting. You're one of the best meisters in this school and she doesn't even have a weapon."

"Didn't she fight you and Spirit?" I asked him.

"Yes, she did," he recalled with a grimace. "Spirit still refuses to meet her properly."

"I guess she scares everybody, not just me." Stein vigorously nodded his head.

"She is an incredible fighter. I think both of us could learn from her."

"A shinigami and the world's best meister learning from a weaponless human," I chuckled weakly. "Everything about the past week has been insane."

"I definitely agree."

We fell into an uncomfortable silence, but my mind was still racing. I was dying to tell him about Riley, to get some answers, but I was terrified at the same time. But my curiosity could not be squelched.

"Professor," I broached.

"Hm?"

"Riley and I were having an... intellectual discussion a few days ago and I was wondering if you knew of any books on the subject."

"That depends," he responded. "What is the subject?"

"Well... me," I said. "We were discussing the possibility of a human being able to summon Beelzebub."

"Impossible," he said immediately. "The soul wavelength of a human, whether meister or weapon, is too weak to summon Beelzebub."

"...What about something other than a human? Something that's not a shinigami or a human?" I had no idea where I was getting this idea, but it was gnawing at the back of my mind. Maybe if I found a book about non-human summoners it would contain an article about human summoners.

The glare on his glasses made his face nearly impossible to read, but I could tell that the professor was thinking the same thing that my father had whenever I had asked him the question. Slowly, he appeared to make up his mind.

"I do believe that there are a few books on the subject," he said slowly. "The two that immediately come to mind are _Shinigamis: A History_ and _Shinigamis: A Profile _by Vladimir Petrokov, but I seem to remember that Louisa Gregory-Pole published a few pamphlets about it."

"Thank you, Professor," I said and sat up in the bed. "I'll look them up. I'm going to go find Riley now."

"Of course you are," he chuckled lightly (he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately). Then, as I gripped the doorknob to leave the dispensary, he spoke again. "And, Kid?"

"Yes?" I turned to face him.

"Don't tell anyone about those books. They are only meant to be read by shinigamis and trusted advisors." I gave a curt nod to show that I understood.

"But, why?" I asked.

"...You'll figure it out soon enough," he seemed to sigh.

I deemed his answer good enough, then I left to find my project partner.

On the way to the cafeteria, Maka stopped me in the hallway.

"Kid!" she called. I turned to see her worriedly hurrying over to me. "Are you okay? I heard you were in the dispensary again this morning."

"I'm fine," I smiled at her concern. "I just over-exerted myself on Beelzebub coming to school today." She cocked her head in confusion.

"Don't you normally walk to school? The Gallows is only a couple blocks from the DWMA."

"Professor Stein offered Riley and I bonus points if we came to school together," I explained.

"Why didn't she just come to your house?" Maka giggled girlishly. "The walk would've been much shorter." I shuddered.

"I don't want her to know where I live," I admitted. It was the truth - seeing how strong she was, and how emotionless, she wouldn't have any problem killing me. Maka, however, scoffed at my answer.

"I'm pretty sure all of Death City knows where you live, Kid."

"I'm not taking any chances," I said seriously. "I'm going to go to the cafeteria. Riley promised me a piece of moldy fruit," I laughed at the last part and so did my friend.

"I think you two are doing worlds of good for each other," she said with a smile.

"Really?" I said, taken aback. She had given me bruises on both my skin and my ego, not to mention that killer kick to the balls. And I was definitely a major pain in her neck.

"_Definitely_," Maka laughed. "I don't think any of us have seen you act more alive since you've met her. You've even calmed down about symmetry a bit."

"Are you sure about that? I had an attack this morning and practically flung myself into Riley's living room-"

"One of my pigtails is higher than the other and you still haven't noticed."

"You're such a liar, Ma-"

_She's telling the truth._

_Oh damn._

I nearly had a panic attack right then and there, throwing myself into fixing my friend's hair while she burst into a fit of hysteric giggles. Just as fate would have it, Riley turned the corner at that exact moment.

"And here we see a wild Reaper Boy in its natural habitat," she remarked and took a bite of apple, "adapting its _environment _to fit _its _needs."

"Ha ha," I deadpanned without looking away from my work. "Very funny, bitch."

"Aaaaand, you just lost out on your piece of moldy fruit," I could hear her smirk. "That's what you get for calling me a bitch."

"What would I call you if I can't call you what you are?"

"Well, I'm getting a flashback to a certain scene from _Cyrano de Bergerac_."

"Oh!" Maka chirped in excitement. "The scene where Cyrano is telling those men all the different ways they could have said his nose was large?"

"That would be the one," Riley laughed. "I see I've found another play junkie."

"You have no idea! I've been getting into a box set of Tennessee Williams plays and I just ordered another set of Oscar Wilde plays!"

"I've been re-reading _Cyrano de Bergerac _and _The Glass Menagerie_ nonstop for the past year."

"The past _year_!?" Maka gasped. "How can you do that? I always have to read more. I can't just sit and re-read things like that!" The pigtailed girl was practically jumping in both excitement and astonishment. It was making it incredibly difficult to make her pigtails symmetrical!

"Well," Riley began, "I'm an annotative reader. Every time I read them, I find something different, deeper. I'd rather know one or two works completely than thousands on a shallow basis."

"I guess..." Maka trailed, obviously impressed by Riley's answer. I could sense a bit of intimidation quivering in her soul, something that Maka Albarn was _definitely _not known for. "I think the pigtail is symmetrical by now," she pulled away from me.

"Eh?" I was pulled out of my symmetry trance. "What?"

"'_Eh_'?" Riley mocked me. "What are you, Canadian?"

"Symmetry tends to do that to me," I smirked at her.

"So moving it affects your nationality?" she chuckled and took another bite of apple. She then reached into the pocket of her sweatshirt and threw something at me. Catching it, I realized she had thrown me an apple.

A perfectly symmetrical, gorgeous, perfect apple. I was overjoyed that it wasn't a grotesque piece of mold, but...

_Why the hell would she do something to make me happy?_

"Happy birthday, Merry Christmas, Happy Easter," she said. "That's all you'll get from me."

Then she turned and walked away. The bell rang soon after, so I hurriedly devoured the apple (symmetrically, of course), bid Maka farewell, and went to class.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Riley's POV

"_I'm telling you, Maka_," the boy who I knew to be Soul's voice floated around the tree trunk in a hoarse whisper. "_You need to stay away from her_."

"_Why?_" Maka whispered back.

"_All the unpaired weapons that wanted to be paired with her? They're all scared absolutely shitless after what happened!_"

"_That is just a rumor, Soul! I can't believe you'd be so willing to believe something like that! We hardly even know the girl!_"

"_Dammit, Maka, it's not just a rumor! I've talked to Holly _and _to Joel _and _to Cynthia and they all said the same thing! The minute they tried to resonate with her, they felt like they were on fire!_"

"_They could have been lying-_"

"_All three of them? No way. Holly always looks around frantically when she lies, Joel is so quiet he doesn't have any reason to lie, and Cynthia is just such a goody-two-shoes I don't think she _can _lie! That girl is bad news and I don't think it's good for us to be friends with her!_"

"_...Soul, I-I get it. I just..._" she sighed, _"I thought I might finally have a book buddy. She says she likes Tennessee Williams..."_ Another sigh.

"_I know, but... I just don't want you getting hurt. I love you too much."_

_ "__I love you, too, Soul." _A quiet kissing noise came from their direction. I cringed. "_We should stay away from her. I guess you're right. _"

"_This is the last time I'll ever hear those words, isn't it?_" a low chuckle sounded. A giggle responded.

"Let's go get in the lunch line." And they left.

I clawed mercilessly at the trunk of the tree I was leaning against. I could feel the grooves I had made in it, and it just made me angrier. They had to have thought I was hurting weapons on purpose! Nothing could be farther from the truth - I hated to hurt people.

_Oh, really?_

_I don't have the patience for you right now, Interloper._

"Riley?"

Reaper's voice broke my trance. I opened my scrunched up eyes to find him staring at me from a safe distance.

"Yeah?" I casually dusted myself off and tried to look normal.

"What were you doing?"

"Just... nothing," I sighed and looked down at the oranges bulging from my sweatshirt pocket.

"I don't buy that for a second," he came up to me. "You were eavesdropping on Maka and Soul, weren't you?"

"If you're so damn smart why did you have to ask?" I kicked a rock as far as it would go into the woods. These were the same woods I had been attacked by Sid in, and they came right up to the edge of the field where some students liked to eat lunch.

"To make you feel unconfortable, obviously," he said and sat down on one side of the trunk, as per our usual routine. I, on the other hand, went to the other side of the tree, climbed it, and sat on a limb before peeling one of my oranges.

"Could you please just sit on the ground?" Reaper Boy's voice sounded strained.

"If you want our positions to be symmetrical, you'll have to climb up here and sit on that limb."

"I'll break the branch off!"

"Oh please," I snorted. "You weigh about as much as a butterfly."

"_Well, aren't you sweet_," he grunted and climbed to sit on the branch anyway. "So what were Maka and Soul talking about that was so interesting?"

My hand automatically clenched around the orange section in my hand, squeezing it tighter than a vice grip with my guitarist's hands.

"Nothing," I said lowly and sucked what juice I could from the pulverized section.

"That's a lie and you know it, sweet cheeks," Reaper Boy scoffed sarcastically.

"Don't _call_ me that, Reaper."

A long and extremely comfortable silence passed between us. If that silence would just continue-

"Riley?"

"What?" I asked gruffly.

"We still need to do that questionnaire thing."

I exhaled in an exhausted sigh. "Why can't this project be over already?"

"I feel the same way, believe me, but I actually want to get a good grade on this thing," he started. "How about the school library at eight tonight?"

"That sounds just perfect," I scoffed, though I was actually pleased he had suggested a time that didn't interfere with band practice. "I'll bring the picnic and you bring the candles."

"You really have no patience for anyone, do you?"

"Not in the slightest," I downed another section of my third orange. After a moment, he spoke again.

"I have a... favor to ask of you." He sounded as if he was still making his mind up as to whether he should ask.

"The great Reaper Boy asking the lowly Riley for a favor? Has Hell frozen over?"

"Very funny," he said coolly. "This morning when it was just Professor Stein and me in the dispensary, he told me about some books on shinigamis. I was wondering if you would help me research them."

"Why would you need to do that? I figured that _being _one was fairly good research."

_To find out if you're a shinigami, maybe?_

_Shut up, Interloper! I'm not a shinigami!_

"Well... about your... predicament with Beelzebub," he slowly, hesitantly, explained.

_See?_

"Ah," I acknowledged his request.

_This would be good for you! Probably bonus points on your project, getting this stupid Q&A thing over with, finding out what you are, and the possibility of killing him all in one!_

The only part of that logic that I could argue with was the part about killing him. As much as I would have loved to not have to deal with him, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had killed him. This would be a great opportunity to research my abilities with Beelzebub and my... abilities regarding other things. Maybe it would even explain...

"I'll do it."

"Really?" he nearly choked on his food.

"Yeah," I sighed and rubbed my eyes, "Though I might kill you if you have another symmetry attack." He didn't need to know I was half-serious.

"Are you sure? I mean, we would have to be alone together for a few hours with little to no supervision and our shouting matches could-"

"It almost sounds as if you don't _want_ me to help you," I said coolly and ate another orange segment.

"That's not it at all! I would really appreciate your-"

"Reaper Boy?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

For once, he took my advice.

Kid's POV

I was kicking myself for asking her to help. Professor Stein had explicitly forbidden me to tell anyone about my research, and I had gone and told Riley of all people! But another part of my brain remembered that he had said that the information held in the books was for shinigamis _and_ trusted assistants, and, for some reason, I trusted Riley. Honestly, I trusted her more than almost anyone. Maybe it was because she was so blatantly honest-

I was jolted out of my contemplation by the sound of a door opening and closing. Twisting around in my seat, I saw Riley entering the library with a backpack slung over a shoulder.

"You're late," I evenly said.

"You're a bitch," she mocked our conversation in the training room. "I'm five minutes late. Get over it."

"You ruined the perfectly symmetrical time of eight o'clock!" I whisper-yelled.

"Would you like for me to walk out and come back in at 8:08?" she asked dryly. "If the answer is yes, then too bad." She swung her backpack under the table at which I sat and took a seat across from me.

"You really are a bitch, aren't you?" I sighed and looked back at the open book before me.

"USDA certified, home-grown bitch," she affirmed and slid a pile of pamphlets to her side of the table.

"No! Take a book! It's not symmetrical unless we're both reading a book!"

"Sure. We'll also synchronise our page-turning," she deadpanned. "Then we can break out into a poorly-executed interpretive dance."

"Excuse me, but that would be a _perfectly_-executed interpretive dance!"

"You need medication," she rubbed her forehead and opened a pamphlet.

"Were you even listening to me!?" I tried to tear the pamphlets away from her.

"Yes, I was. I was just a tad preoccupied with my hobby of not caring what you think."

"The attitude needs to stop, and stop now," I said in a scolding tone. I felt ridiculous, like I was disciplining a child; Riley very obviously shared my sentiment.

"You're not my babysitter. If anything, I'm _your _babysitter making sure you don't have an OCD attack and reorganize the library by color."

"You do not know me!" I gritted out. "I would reorganize this library alphabetically, not by color or this ridiculous Dewey decimal system."

"The decimal system works fine, Reaper."

"It's ridiculous! How are you supposed to find a particular book by just browsing? And card catalogues get confusing and completely asymmetrical with all the stamping-"

"We are not _seriously _debating the advantages of library organizational systems, are we?" Riley derisively chuckled and looked back to the pamphlet.

"Give me the pamphlets!" I begged her. "Please! I feel like the back of my head is going to explode!"

"Too bad," she flipped to the next page. "If it explodes you could busy yourself with symmetrically cleaning your tiny brain from the library walls and leave me alone."

"We are supposed to be helping each other here!" I hissed and violently turned a page in _Shinigamis: A Profile_.

"Which is why I was trying to direct the conversation away from the Dewey decimal system."

"Fine." I quipped to mask how hard I was caving in. "Let's just get to work.

"That's all I've been wanting."

We proceeded to bury our heads in our respective works. The yellowed pages of _Shinigamis: A Profile_ yielded little: other than basic, well-known information, the only thing I found was that Beelzebub could be summoned into any form. A pamphlet by Louisa Gregory-Pole told me that shinigamis are biologically immortal, meaning we, undisturbed by kishins, could theoretically live forever.

_Great_, I thought and leaned back in my chair. _I could theoretically be stuck forever on this asymmetrical planet._

My eyes and the tiny print were absolutely killing me, so I let my gaze wander around the room. The DWMA library was an incredibly large one with over two million books. The walls were lined floor-to-ceiling with dark cherry bookshelves occasionally interrupted with gaps for large tomes open on podiums. The large main floor was a maze of even more bookshelves containing books of every topic, from the history of the alphabet to the evolution of zebras. On blank spaces of wall, behind ornate tapestries and portraits of prestigious graduates, one could tell that the walls were painted a deep red that reminded me all too much of blood. Up a flight of stairs wound an indoor balcony of sorts that held more bookshelves. Finally, everything was interspersed by small outcroppings of dark wooden tables, like the one at which we now sat. I inwardly chuckled as I associated the space with the fictional Hogwarts library.

Done contemplating the room, my attention was drawn by the scratch of a pen on paper. Flitting my eyes to my study companion, I found the source of the noise to be her rapid note-taking in a notebook littered with paper fringes. Her fingers clutched the pen awkwardly, with knuckles jutting out and creating sharp angles in contrast with the elegant lines of her hand. Her left hand, I noticed, bore callouses on its fingertips which scratched the paper of _Shinigamis: A History,_ the book which she was currently hunched over. Her face, nearly touching the pages of the book as she rested her entire arm on the table, was scrunched in concentration as she pored over every word of Vladimir Petrokov, tiny whisps of mousy-brown hair framing her face. The angle at which she lay caused the scar on her jaw to cast a shadow down her neck. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the low yellow light of the library, her long lashes casting a shadow down her sharp cheeks and full, worry-bitten lips.

It was then I realized that, despite her asymmetry and snarkiness, Riley was exquisitely beautiful.

"Reaper?"

"What?" I said, slightly startled.

"Would you mind not staring at me?" she asked in a slightly bemused tone.

"I wasn't staring at _you_!" I felt my cheeks begin to heat up. Dammit! Why was I blushing? "I was staring at the paper fringes in your notebook!" Great_ lie, there. No way she could see through that one, Kid._

"Whatever," she sighed and rubbed her eyes with her thumbs. "My brain is so fried KFC could pass it off as their chicken."

"So I take it that you're done, then?" I asked and slid _Shinigamis: A History_ back to my side of the table.

"Yeah."

"Did you find anything interesting in here?" I patted the book on the cover.

"Useful and interesting are two different things, Reaper," she half-chuckled and held her forehead in her hands. "But I did find that all shinigamis have some kind of avian quality."

"That is fairly interesting," I yawned ironically. "Did it say why?"

"I was just getting to that part, but I don't think I can do this much longer."

"Then I'll try to keep the questionnaire short."

"Oh, damn. I forgot about that," she bent down to retrieve her backpack and knocked her notebook to the floor.

"I'll get the notebook," I said as I stretched to reach it.

"No!"

It was too late. My hand was already tightly clamped around the wire spiral and bringing it into my lap.

"What is it?" I asked her.

"Nothing!" she moved to snatch it away, but I held it away from her.

"Well, if it's nothing, you won't mind if I look through it, then," I said with a smirk and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want me to say!?" she huffed and stretched out her arm. "If I say what's in it, that'll defeat the purpose of you not looking in it!"

"So, I'll know either way." My smirk widened as I flipped to the front cover.

"Don't you _dare-_"

Once again, it was too late. On the inside front cover, I noticed, were several small ink sketches of eyes and girls with long, flowing hair; they were actually quite good.

"Did you draw these?" I asked, still looking down at them.

"No, some random hobo from the South Side came up and made them appear with magic. _YES_ _I drew them_! Now give my notebook back!"

I jumped up from the table and continued to examine the pad. Scribbled in the margins were smeared words such as "infallible" and "disenchanted," and the box at the top corner of the page was marked with a "4/4". The first page was filled with black-inked words.

_I am not afraid to keep on living._

_I am not afraid to walk-_

"I _said_ to give it back!" Riley snatched the book from my hands.

"Was that your pitiful attempt at poetry?" I laughed, disgusted with myself for making fun of her. She smacked me across the face with her notebook, sending me sprawling to the ground, and stormed back to the table.

"_Stupid shit-head_," I heard her grumble as I massaged my stinging cheek.

"I thought poetry was supposed to be emotional and personal, not a poor commentary on drug use," I said and guarded my face from another attack.

"_Retarded_ shit-head," she corrected herself a bit louder. When I stood up, still nursing my cheek, I saw she was packing away her study materials.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked her incredulously. "We still haven't done those questions."

"If you want me to answer your stupid questions," she remarked, "you are going to have to ask them on the way back to my house. Because I am not staying here for another minute."

"God, what is wrong with you? Can't you take a joke?"

She suddenly whirled on me.

"I can take most jokes, but I can't take you."

_Low blow_.

She slung her backpack over her shoulders and stormed from the room with me close at her heels.

"Fine. Have it your way," I growled and yanked the questionnaire papers from my pockets (I had made a copy to keep my pockets symmtrical). Glancing over it once, I stole a glace at Riley again. The girl was very obviously pissed.

"You ready?" I asked as I neatly unfolded the paper.

"Born ready. Now get on with it before I change my mind about this."

_Geez, woman_.

"Ok. Full name."

"Riley."

"No. _Full _name."

"_Riley_," she said definitively. "That's my whole name."

"Okay, then..." my eyes widened in frustration. "Birthday."

"December 31st, 1995."

"Um, hometown?"

"Death City, Nevada."

"Favorite color."

"This is fucking ridiculous!" I heard her hiss as she slammed her hands against the push handle to open the door to the outside world. It was around eleven at night, the sky pitch black and dotted with millions of tiny pinkprick stars.

"Well, it's what we have to do, so suck it up!" I told her. This was even more annoying than Black Star. Black Star never made sense when he argued, but this was hard to refute.

"Fine. Just get on with it."

"Hey, _you _were the one who interrupted me."

"I'm not in the mood for logic right now. I'm in the mood for a shower and my bed."

"Fine, woman! Just give me a minute! Favorite color!"

"The color the sky is right now."

"Black?"

"More or less."

I made a mental note to bombard her with pink things whenever I got the chance.

"Favorite kind of music."

I saw her shoulders stiffen.

"I don't listen to music."

"Oh, come on. You have to listen to some kind of music!"

"Just accept the answer and move on."

By this time she had retrieved her skateboard from behind its hiding bush and stepped back onto the concrete sidewalk. Something told me not to push the subject; she seemed preoccupied somehow, like she was trying to drown out another conversation or something. Music seemed to be a touchy subject, so I dropped it in fear of getting hit across the face with something much harder than a ratty old notebook.

"Tell me about your family."

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"No."

"What do you mean, '_no_'?" I demanded. She had to answer me! Our project grade depended on it!

"I mean '_no_,'" she answered and slammed her board to the ground. "I'm not telling you anything about my family."

"What the hell did I do to you?" I begged of her, although I already knew the answer. I had been rude, I had attacked her, I had -

"Nothing, Reaper."

_What!?_

"I just don't like to talk about my family."

"Why not?" I pressed. If I hadn't done anything to her, then maybe pressing a bit farther wouldn't hurt.

That, obviously, was not the case.

Riley whirled around to face me, her eyes burning dangerously close to the same red of the training room incident.

"Because I don't have one."


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Riley's POV

Who did this little shit think he was, prying into my past like a goddamn private eye!? He didn't need to know my past - in the long run, he'd probably get hurt if he knew something about my past.

"I don't have a family, Reaper," I turned on him. "Are you fucking satisfied? Do you have your answers? Can I make my merry way home now?" Kid was speechless, opting just to stare at me, trying to say something. I dropped my board and turned to leave, somehow breaking his trance.

"Hold up!" he commanded and grabbed my shoulder. Instinctively, I jerked my shoulder from his grip, trying to ignore how the warmth of his hand still lingered on my sweatshirt. "You don't have _any_ family?" Was that... _concern_? _Pity_?

"I don't need your pity, Reaper. I can wallow in my own self-pity whenever I feel like it."

"You still haven't answered my question, Riley. Do you have any family anywhere?"

"I'm done with your questions tonight!" I stepped onto my board, effectively ending the conversation. "I'm going home! If you decide to escort me home for the umpteenth time, you will be doing it in silence."

"Riley, what has gotten into you? I just wanted to know-"

"What's gotten into me? A legion of parasites," I huffed.

_In more ways than one?_

_Oh, lo and behold, exhibit A!_

"Let me guess," Reaper scoffed and summoned Beelzebub. The pain was less intense this time, but my head was still throbbing as the board hit the ground. "I'm the parasite."

"You're one of them, for sure." I pushed off and started to skate home. I would have given anything to get out of that conversation. I would have given _anything_ to not be on the verge of a panic attack. I heard Kid push off as well, eventually catching up and riding beside me. Surprisingly, he obeyed me and was silent.

I needed to feel the wind in my face, to hear nothing but the steady whirr of wheels against concrete. So I did, concentrating on the way the night air stung my face and pressed my clothes to my body and the way our wheels scratched the ground. Suddenly I was catapulted off my board.

"Riley!" Reaper ran up to me. I was fine, having landed in a crouch. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said offhandedly, more concerned about my board. Upon examining it, I found one of the wheels to be broken in half. "Dammit!"

"Did a wheel break?"

"Yeah," I sighed, unzipping my backpack and shoving the board into it. "I guess I'll have to walk."

"I could carry you on my magical flying skateboard," he chuckled. "As long as you promised to be symmetrical."

"But I wouldn't want to mess up your nationality," I laughed. "If I remember correctly, symmetry makes you Canadian."

"I think I can handle myself," he smirked and looked at Beelzebub. "Beelzebub is symmetrical and I'm still pretty American when I look at him. Eh?" His face fell in mock shock. "Oh dang."

We were soon in hysterics. I had never laughed like that, and it hurt my stomach.

"Shh!" he giggled nearing the end of his fit. "The cops are going to think we're on drugs!"

"Oh God!" I laughed again. "One time I almost got arrested for making a remark like that!"

"You're kidding me!" he laughed back.

"No, I'm not! I was looking all suspicious one night so the cops pulled up beside me and asked me if I was okay. And I said I was and not to worry," I giggled again, "the drug dealers were on Second Street!"

"Wow," Reaper laughed. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

When we finally calmed down, with only the occasional giggle bubbling up to the surface, we started back to my house in silence. After about a mile of just silence, we cut through an alleyway to save time. It was behind a restaurant, with valves letting off steam and making the air thick and murky with fog. Then, through the mist, I heard a voice echo off the brown-bricked walls.

"What was the address again, boss?" a man's southern drawl asked.

_Southern drawl..._

I quickly pulled Kid down to crouch behind a dumpster, covering his mouth with my hand. At first he violently protested, but then settled. I guess he had realized that I wouldn't touch him without reason to. Once he calmed, I removed my hand from his mouth and pressed a finger to my lips.

"_What is it?_" Reaper mouthed at me.

"_Bad feeling_," I mouthed back.

"Hold on," the man drawled again. "Let me get a piece of paper out. I'm never gonna remember it." There was a pause before he continued. "Okay, so 116 Cordova Street?"

Both Reaper's and my eyes widened. That was _my_ address.

"_What does he want with you?_"

"_I don't know_."

"Yes? Alright. Got it, boss. It'll be done within the hour." The sudden sound of a phone snapping shut clanked through the air like a death knell. _What would be done within the hour_? Reaper hesitantly poked me to get my attention.

"_Follow him?_" he asked.

I vigorously nodded and pressed my finger to my lips once more. "_Stealthily_." Reaper Boy gave a single nod to show he understood, then poked his head around the dumpster. An odd thought to have at that moment, but I was surprised he wasn't having a symmetry attack. He motioned that the coast was clear, and we both stood up.

Adrenaline pumping, I leapt against the opposite side of the alley and ricocheted up the walls until I reached the roof. Kid was close behind me, giving me a look that said "_What the fuck are you doing?_"

"He won't look up," I explained quietly and jumped across the divide, landing noiselessly on the roof of the next building.

We repeated to pattern of jumps down the block, working our way down to street level using window sills and fire escapes. The man, as I had predicted, never looked up, though he did glance behind him occasionally. When all three of us reached my house, we stopped. Reaper and I shared a glance and leapt soundlessly down from my neighbor's roof to hide in the darkness. Kid was even able to manipulate the shadows to further conceal our presence; I ignored the tingle I felt in the back of my head; I supposed I might be able to do it too. The man suddenly broke out his phone, dialed a number, and pressed the device against his ear.

"I'm here, boss," he said quietly into his phone. "Now what?" A low hum on from the phone indicated Boss's voice. "So, make sure it's her? Got it." He snapped the phone shut.

_"Make sure it's her?" _Had... Had they found me? I prayed they hadn't.

The man knelt before my doorknob, picked the lock, and slowly made his way into my darkened house. I motioned for Reaper to follow me as we did the same, quietly crouching behind my shadowy coffee table. The man tip-toed through the house with us close on his unknowing heels. He pushed through into my bedroom and looked at my poster of Dallas still pinned to my ceiling.

_Shit_.

"Well," he said to himself. "It's gotta be her." Then, almost in slow motion, he reached for his phone.

_If he dials that number the whole world will know where you are._

"STOP!" I screamed at him. He whirled around and drew a pistol from his belt.

"Who's there?" he asked the dark. I motioned for Reaper Boy to stay where he was, and then I emerged from the darker shadows.

"My name is Riley," I eyed him suspiciously, "and what the hell are you doing in my house?" The man's mouth widened into a malicious grin as he flipped the safety off his gun.

"My, my, my, Little Missy," he sneered. "_Riley _is it? Me and my _friend_ here," he shook his pistol, "would like ask you some questions."

"I would say 'shoot', but something tells me that's a bad idea." The man cackled evilly and slowly advanced. I stood my ground, stoic.

"I like the way you think, Riley," he said with a grin. "Now, what can you tell me about a girl named Leah Roland?"

_Holy mother of shitfucking psychopathic whores shit!_

I hadn't heard that name in a while. My shoulders automatically tensed, but I stood still and emotionless.

"I can tell you that she doesn't live here," I told him calmly.

"Oh really?" he sneered but lowered his gun. "Why else would there be a poster of Dallas on the ceiling? She was always the nostalgic type."

"I went on vacation," I lied. "I like old architecture, so I bought the poster."

"Well, _I_ think," he got closer, "you're a liar."

He smelled like tobacco and sweat.

"Think what you want," I gritted through my teeth. "It doesn't change the truth, and the truth is that there is nobody by the name of Leah Roland residing here unless I have an _extremely_ quiet squatter living in my attic."

"So, there is a possibility that she's here?" he drawled. It made my blood run cold.

"No. That was just my pitiful attempt at humor. Now get out of my house," I ordered him.

"Oh," he stepped closer to me. "So, the little girl thinks she can tell the big man what to-" he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened as they ran along the scar on my face. "You-"

He had raised his pistol, but I swiftly flipped it in his hands and tore it away from him. Aiming coolly at his forehead, I spoke. "Who do you work for?"

"What?" he stammered. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his voice was high and uneven. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't bullshit me!" I shook the gun at him. "I heard you on the phone with 'Boss.' And what do you want with Leah Roland?"

"N-nothing! I just wanted to say happy birthday-"

"Okay, listen up, you coward," I said lowly. "You are going to call your boss right now and tell him or her that Leah Roland is not in Death City. That, or I blow your brains out right here, right now."

He shakily complied and dug his phone from his pocket, flipping it open and dialing. He held the phone to his ear and began to speak in a remarkably even voice.

"Yeah, boss?" he drawled. "It wasn't her. I really don't think she's in Death City." He paused as Boss spoke. "I don't know where she would be! But she's not here because the place was filled to the brim with pink shit and there's a little girl in there crying to her mother because she thinks she had a bad dream about a man in her bedroom! And if she's not here she's not in Death City. If she knew we was lookin' for her she would get as far away as possible... Thank you. Bye." He hung up.

"That was impressive, Mr. Intruder," I complimented him.

"Lying comes with the trade," he said, slowly slipping his phone back in his pocket.

"And what trade is that?"

He broke out into a wicked grin.

"Mercenary," he said and pulled a lighter from his pocket.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Kid's POV

I was freaking the fuck out! This girl was staring a gun in the barrel and wouldn't flinch! And she was making wise cracks like it was nothing instead of a life-or-death situation! My heart was pounding uncontrollably; I was sure this guy would be able to hear it, but he was very suddenly distracted by Riley pointing his own gun back at him! After he called the boss, he suddenly pulled out a lighter.

"GET OUT, RILEY!"

It was too late.

The man sparked the lighter and set the curtains ablaze. Riley took the opportunity to tackle him to the ground and punch him in the face.

"WHO DO YOU WORK FOR!?" she screamed in his face and placed a gun against his forehead. "TELL ME OR I RIP OFF YOUR LIMBS AND LET YOU DIE OF BURNS AND BLOOD LOSS!"

"Okay!" tears streamed down his face. "I work for-"

It was too much. The whole room was on fire now! If I didn't get her out of there then she was going to die! So I barreled through the flames and grabbed her around her waist, trying to drag her away.

"LET ME GO, REAPER!" she yanked herself free and flung herself back atop the man. "WHO DO YOU WORK FOR!?"

He mumbled an answer just before the curtain rod collapsed, covering the man with burning curtains. Riley, however, remained unharmed. Why?

Because I snatched her out from under them.

I proceeded to drag her from the room, despite her screams begging her to let her go, not to touch her. She violently convulsed in my grasp, reaching out to grab at something that wasn't there, screaming that she'd kill him.

The fire was spreading and spreading fast. It had already claimed her bedroom and was eating through the hall as I hauled her through.

"GODDAMMIT, RILEY!" I yelled over the roar of the flames. "YOU'RE MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANYTHING YOU WANT TO SAVE!"

I was a bit shocked to realize I believed it, but I was even more shocked to feel her sharp elbow come back to jab me in the gut. As I doubled over in excruciating pain, she wriggled free of my grasp and rushed to her coffee table.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN!? ARE YOU INSANE!?"

"PROBABLY!" she yelled back, now with a bundle of papers in her hands. "NOW LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

I couldn't have agreed more.

By the time we escaped, the whole house was on fire. How it spread that fast I was absolutely baffled, but I was more concerned with the fact that I had just escaped death. We both collapsed in panting puddles in the middle of the street as blaring sirens began to race closer.

The next thing I knew I was standing beside an ambulance while a small crowd gathered around a ring of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks. Riley's house was nothing more than ash. The girl in question was sitting in the back of an ambulance across the semi-circle, swatting away the hands of paramedics all too eager to do their jobs.

"I told you, I'm fine!"

I made my way to the ambulance and coughed to announce my presence. The paramedics turned around, their eyes widening when they saw me.

"Young Lord Death!" one greeted me. Riley scoffed at the nick name.

"Welcome back to reality, Reaper Boy."

"Thanks. I feel so loved."

"Young Death, you're injured!" a paramedic exclaimed grabbing my left arm. It was only then that I noticed a large burn singing my left arm, making the sleeve asymmetrical!

"_Oh no_," I heard Riley's faint whisper. I looked up. Her eyes were sunken with fatigue and she looked even paler than usual. Despite my sleeve, I found myself more worried about her than about symmetry.

"Could you give us a minute?" I asked the paramedics. They all vigorously nodded and left, eager to do the bidding of a young death god. Bringing my attention back to Riley, I stepped closer to her. "Are you alright, Riley?"

"Are _you_ alright?" she asked, a worried look crossed her face. "You've got a third degree burn and you aren't flipping out about symmetry."

"I'm more worried about you," I admitted. "Do you have anywhere else to stay?" She hesitantly shook her head.

"I can manage, though," she said quickly. "I can get by on my own."

"You can, but you won't."

She snapped her head back up to look at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're staying with me for a while."

If she had had something in her mouth right then, she would have choked on it.

"_What!?"_

"I said that you're-"

"I heard you!" she interrupted me. Her voice was slightly shakier and higher-pitched than normal. "I'm just... I don't think that's the best idea."

"Why do you sound so nervous?"

"I don't work well with people! You should know that better than anyone! How am I supposed to live with you without killing you?"

"My house is... a decent size," I said ironically. I lived in the Gallows Manor - the place was bigger than the White House. "I think we could avoid each other fairly effectively."

"Are you sure?" she scratched the back of her head. "I'm not the best person to live with." She looked almost terrified.

"As long as you don't mess with the symmetry I think we'll be fine."

Who was I kidding? This girl was going to take every single opportunity to mess up my house! She was right - this was a _very_ bad idea. But, somehow, I couldn't just send her to a homeless shelter. I would feel so stupidly guilty I wouldn't be able to sleep!

"Reaper, I... I don't know," she finally said, gazing off into the distance with a pained expression on her face.

"You don't have a choice." I was surprised by how authoritative my voice sounded. Evidently, that edge was what I needed.

"Fine," she sighed. "Just don't bother me unless I'm going to be late for school or something."

"No promises," I chuckled and held out my hand. She eyed me suspiciously, then dropped her gaze to my hand. She seemed hesitant to take it, but she slowly stretched out her arm and lightly grabbed my hand; the moment we touched, she flinched.

"My hands aren't too cold, are they?"

"Shut up, Reaper Boy," she grumbled. I pulled her up to standing and she snatched her hand away from mine.

"You _really_ don't like being touched, do you?"

"If I agree to that you're just going to take every opportunity to touch me, aren't you?"

"How about this: you don't mess with the symmetry of my house, I don't touch you."

"Deal," she quickly agreed and knelt to pick up her backpack.

"Let's go."

Riley's POV

When he said his place was a decent size... he lied. His house was huge! Bigger than huge! I didn't even know modern architecture could support a structure that big.

We stood outside the wrought-iron gate leading into the front lawn. Well, Reaper Boy was fiddling with the lock and I was staring at the place in awe. When he finally got the gate unlocked he swung it ipen and stepped inside.

"And here we have the Gallows Manor," he presented it with dramatic arm movements, "the residence of Death himself."

"Gallows, huh?" I remarked and looked around the yard. "Fitting."

It really was a fitting name. The entire fron lawn was "decorated" with instruments of death and torture. From guillotines to little lawn gnomes holding nooses, it was an executioner's Disney World.

"I must admit, the lawn ornaments aren't exactly pleasant to look at," he conceded with a grimace, "but they're traditional of the Death family."

"And they're symmetrical," I commented and stepped over the threshhold.

"But of course," he wryly responded, making his way to his front door. After unlocking it, he entered and held the door for me.

"Oh wow," I mocked him. "The perfect gentleman."

"Old habits die hard, but I can make an exception for you," he laughed and started to close the door in my face. I slid in through the crack and tied to glare at him, but I found myself chuckling instead. All my chuckles ceased when he turned on the light.

His house - mansion - was beautiful! A bit ornate for my taste, but beautiful nonetheless. The walls were burgundy and adorned with symmetrical abstract paintings; on the floors were beige and brown oriental rugs that looked more expensive than my dear departed house! The rest of the floor was a dark walnut wood, atop which stood two enormous black sofas, two Victorian grandfather clocks, a black-enameled coffee table, four ornately upholstered chairs and several bookshelves filled with photographs lining the walls. Directly in front of us swept a grand staircase with swirling banisters on either side, and, to top it all off, a huge cut-glass chandelier hung from the ceiling.

"_Whoa_," I croaked, unable to make much of a sound; Kid just laughed at my reaction. I turned on him. "Well, sorry if this place is more expensive that most people's lives!" I half-laughed.

"It's fine," he said. "I just didn't think you'd care about how it looked."

"Just because I don't care doesn't mean I can't appreciate."

"True enough," he admitted. "Do want a grand tour?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Why not?"

Over the next hour-and-a-half, he led me through innumerable hallways, a game room, several bathrooms, a stupid number of bedrooms, a goddamn _sauna_, a playroom ("Patty has the body of a hooker but the mind of a toddler," Reaper explained.), _twelve_ rooms just filled with clothes, and a kitchen so well-stocked I wanted to just drag a bed into the middle of it and not leave. Now we stood in the doorway of a huge training room like the one in the basement of the DWMA. Its floor was covered in swaths of bamboo mats, one of its walls was lined with cabinets filled with every weapon imaginable (and only able to be opened by a shinigama), its ceiling was a maze of black metal rafters, and in its corners were no less than twenty training dummies and punching bags.

"Those," he pointed to the dummies, "my father had enchanted by a witch friendly to the Academy."

"What do they do?"

"They can attack you by themselves," he explained, "and they take on the appearance of the people you would be most afraid to fight."

_Well, we know who that's going to be. Just twenty clones of your-_

"Wow," I interupted the Interloper. "Impressive." Reaper Boy just smirked.

"If you think _those _enchantments are cool," he grinned wryly, "you're going to _love_ the backyard."

He proceeded to lead me to an inconspicuous door at the back of the foyer, held his hand against the wood momentarily, and swung it open.

He was right. I _did_ love it. Outside, the sky was pitch black, but lit with bilions of stars, the bright moon, and a swath of the Milky Way. The moon hung over a still lake surrounded by low, grassy mountains; the grass of a meadow rustled in the wind, and a forest crept up to the foothills of the mountains.

"I hate to keep saying this, but _whoa_," I said lowly. "How does this even fit in your backyard?"

"Magic," he explained with a grin as he studied my reaction. "The door reads where you want to be, and the enchantment makes it happen. You can go as far as you want back there and never run out of space."

"_That sounds perfect,_" I whispered to myself.

"Did you say something?"

"No," I lied quickly.

"Well, I really only have one more place to show you," he said. "Come on."

I was reluctant to leave the little oasis, but I followed him anyway. He led me up the grand staircase a final time, down a long hallway, and to a plain black door at the end of a hall.

"This," he said, "can be your room, if you want it."

"This should be interesting," I said lowly and opened the door. I was not disappointed. Instead of the luxe style of the other guest rooms, this one was remarkably normal, though still luxurious. A large bed with a white comforter and teal pillows sat in the middle of the dark-walnut-floored room. The rest of the space was occupied by a white-enameled desk, an ornate desk chair, a cushy chair beside a floor lamp, a nightstand, and a bookcase stocked with grey-covered books. The walls were painted slate grey, and a fan with little shinigami-skull pulls adorned the ceiling.

"It's perfect," I remarked. "Is this another enchanted room?" He nodded in response.

"The witch owed us a lot of favors."

"I see." I hesitated before I asked my next question. "...Are you sure this is okay? I feel like I'm imposing."

"Of course you're imposing," Reaper Boy laughed at me. "That's what guests do. But I don't mind the imposition." I lightly pushed him and smiled slightly.

"You're an ass," I said. "But knowing you is not without its advantages." I noticed two white doors on either side of the room, so I opened one of them. Inside was a bathroom worthy of a king, with cream-colored tiles and a huge shower. Placing my hand on the other door's silver knob, I twisted it and flung it open.

I let out the single most femenine scream I had ever made in my life. Reaper Boy howled in laughter, and I gave him a pointed glare and said "that never happened." But I was way more excited than I was angry.

Because the room I had just opened was stuffed to the brim with every musical instrument I could think of and boxes upon boxes of rock vinyls.

_This might not be so bad after all._


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Riley's POV

"WAKE UP, FUCKTARD! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!" Reaper Boy's voice cut through my door. I screamed and fell out of bed, landing painfully on my back. Pushing myself up from the floor, my hands brushed cold, textured wood. But my floors were carpeted...

The previous night's events suddenly came flooding back to me. The band practice, the research session, the man, the fire... and ending up here, in an enchanted room in Death's house. Yeah, 100% blievable.

"Riley!" Reaper knocked on the door.

"I'm up, I'm up!" I groaned at his voice. "Just give me a minute to get ready!"

"Well, make it quick!"

"Jeez, dude," I said, pulling up my pants. "Calm down."

"I know how long it takes you girls to get ready. You say a minute and mean an hour."

"You wanna bet?" I scoffed, voice muffled as I slipped my bra and sweatshirt over my head. "I'm not like all those girls you're talking about."

"Between the baggy clothes and the attitude you convey that idea quite well."

I slipped on my socks and laced up my shoes before spinning my hair up into its clip. Then I glaced at the alarm clock on the nightstand to give me an idea as to how long I had.

The clock read 5:00 a.m.

I flung open the door in a rage, effectively smacking Reaper Boy in the face.

"TWO _HOURS_!?" I screamed at him. "YOU WOKE ME UP TWO _HOURS_ BEFORE WE HAVE TO BE THERE!? I ONLY GOT FOUR HOURS OF SLEEP YOU INCONSIDERATE ASSHAT!" Reaper Boy just groaned in return. "I hope that develops into a nice asymmetrical bruise," I spat and started down the hallway and pulled my hood over my face.

"Geez, woman," he groaned and followed me. "If you're so pissed off about it why don't you go back to sleep?"

"I'm going to raid your kitchen," I grumbled. "Don't get in the way of a sleep-deprived Riley. You may be separated from your genitals." I could almost hear him shudder.

The next five minutes found Reaper Boy at the huge dining room table leaning against an ice pack and me pouring a killer bowl of corn flakes. Sitting down across from him, dug in.

"Why did you have to sit right there?" he whined.

"So I can survey my handiwork," I said, gesturing to the bruise developing (regrettably) in the middle of his forehead. "Seeing you in pain makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"I'm glad to be able to cause you some kind of human emotion."

"That warm fuzzy feeling is mold growing on my unused heart," I growled and took a huge bite of corn flakes.

"_KIIIID_?" an incredibly juvenile voice called from upstairs.

"Patty?" I asked. He nodded.

"What is it, Patty?" he called back.

"WHAT WAS ALL THAT NOISE DOWNSTAIRS?"

"So she only just now figured that out?" I nearly choked on my cereal.

"She's not the brightest crayon in the box," he explained. "She has the body of a hooker-"

"-and the mind of a toddler. I remember."

"KIIII-IIIID!" Patty giggled and bounded down the stairs. When she got to the kitchen and saw us at the table, she froze. "KID, WHY IS THERE A ROBBER EATING MY CORN FLAKES!?"

I just about died. I choked on my cereal and leaned back in the chair in quiet hysterics. Once I swallowed the mouthful of corn flakes, I erupted into choking bouts of laughter.

"It's not a robber, Patty," Kid laughed along. "Th-this-" he couldn't finish as he laughter grew to be too much to contain. So we just sat at the table flailing in our seats and laughing like retarted seals for the next minute.

"What is going on down there!?" another voice called down the stairs. Liz, I assumed. Thirty seconds later she was staring at the Reaper and Riley duo like it was a really bizarre circus act. Once we finally calmed down, Reaper turned to his weapons.

"I'm sorry girls," he croaked through contained giggles. "This is my partner, Riley." Liz's face broke into a smug smile.

"I mean we all _assumed_ you were gay, but don't you think you could have told us before you got married?"

The look on Reaper Boy's face was glorious. A mixture of shock, horror, and anger, he reached across the table to yank down my hood.

"Female!" he managed to choke out while I wheezed. Was laughing supposed to feel this horrible?

"He means - God, that was great-" I said through giggles, "we're parners in the class project." Kid glared at me, but said nothing. I did get a very strong vibe of "fuck you" coming from his direction, however.

"Oh!" Patty giggled. I could already tell I would need to avoid that one as much as possible.

"That still doesn't explain why she's in our house, though," Liz crossed her arms. "Would you care to explain, Kid?"

"Well-"

"My house caught on fire," I said quickly. I didn't want to drag anyone else into my problems by letting them know too much.

"So, Kid let you stay?" she eyed me suspiciously.

"More or less," I answered. "He pretty much had to drag me here."

"And how long will you be staying?"

"I, uh-"

"Indefinitely," Kid saved me. "Until she can find a place of her own, she'll stay here."

"You wanna bet?" I asked lowly and finished off my bowl of corn flakes. Patty laughed wildly and enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug.

"She's funny!" she giggled and put her chin on my head. "I like her!"

"_Kill me_," I wheezed. The girl laughed again and let me go.

"Are you okay?" Kid asked me.

"I'm fine. Nothing oxygen can't fix."

"Kid, could I talk to Riley alone for a moment?" Liz asked suddenly. Reaper looked a bit taken aback, but stood from his seat. He looked back at me.

"No violent outbursts?"

"I make no promises," I smirked at him. He rolled his eyes and left with Patty close behind him, Liz taking the place directly across from me.

"Now," she began. "I'm going to be blunt with you. I don't feel quite right about having you stay here. I'm not saying that because you're a girl and I don't want the competition, that's not it whatsoever. I'm talking about your behavior toward weapons."

I gulped.

"What about it?"

"You _have_ to know what I'm talking about," she scoffed. "The other day when you were testing weapons and they all felt like they were burning. It takes a lot of nerve and a _very_ bad intention to purposefully and directly hurt someone's soul. Before I can be okay with you staying here, I have to know: are you hurting weapons on purpose?"

I shook my head.

"I've never hurt anyone on purpose," I said.

"Then resonate with me."

"That's a really bad idea," I backed away slightly.

"Even if it hurts, I'll be able to tell if it's on purpose or not," she said seriously. "I'm used to pain."

"You have to promise me," I leaned my elbow on the table and pointed my hand at her, "You have to promise me that if you see anything, or feel any of my emotions, you don't tell anyone."

"I promise."

With that we opened our souls to one another. The moment we connected, she squeaked in pain and broke the resonance, heavily panting as she leaned her head against the table.

"Oh my God, Liz, are you alright?" I hovered over her worriedly. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"No, no, I'm fine," she said breathlessly and sat up. To my surprise she wore a genuine smile on her face. "I felt what I need to feel. I believe you."

"Oh thank God," I exhaled, utterly relieved. Maybe she would spread the word to the other students at the DWMA. But, then again, if a certain someone (I shuddered inwardly) was willing to burn my house down to kill me, maybe it was better if people stayed out of my life.

"But, out of curiosity," she began to catch her breath, "why are you so scared?"

"_What?_" I spluttered.

"When we resonated. Fear was what I felt most of in you."

I could have told her a million reasons why I was scared. I was in a magical house inhabited by Death him/itself, I had an alternate personality living inside my head, I _was_ an alternate personality in the person of Katy Sanguine, I had a concert to play in less than three weeks. my house had just been burned down, my own flesh and blood was trying to kill me, I was supernaturally strong and fast, I could move things with my mind, I could feel it every time Kid used his shinigami abilities, I could summon Beelzebub and possibly manipulate shadows, and, above all, I was terrified that I would lose control.

"I'm not scared," I said with hard eyes. That was one of the biggest lies I'd ever told, but hearing my steady voice say it made me feel a bit more sure of myself. If I could say I wasn't afraid, I could act it, and I could be it.

Liz looked at me with pity, or sympathy, or some squishy emotion that I, for some reason, associated with wet memory foam.

"Fear makes us stronger," she tried to grab my hands in hers, but I instinctively flinched back.

"Then I'm weak," I murmured to the table. "Because I'm not afraid."

Kid's POV

That day at school was a nightmare. Neither Riley nor I had gotten an adequate amount of sleep, making me incredibly sensitive to asymmetry and her incredibly irritable; remarkably, her remarks were even sharper than those in her alert state. Liz and Patty had attached themselves to Riley, which evidently aggravated her to no end. Normally I would have been laughing my ass off to see her so pissed, but now it was scary. It had to have taken a remarkable amount of self-control for her not to go absolutely insane and murder my weapons, as I knew she was fully capable of doing so and probably wouldn't even bat an eye.

When we entered the classroom my other friends were waiting for me. The moment they saw me they dragged me from the trio of girls and into their circle. I looked over my shoulder and spoke to Riley.

"I'll be back in a minute," I called.

"_If you just kill me now you can go along your merry way_," she grumbled as she was dragged up the stairs by a giggling Patty.

"Now that's a keeper," Soul chuckled, drawing my attention back to my friends.

"Hi, Kid!" Maka chirped in her usual cheery voice, but today it was laced with apprehension.

"What's wrong?" I asked the group. "You all seem a bit worried." They looked amongst themselves and nodded.

"Well," Tsubaki began, "we _are _worried. About you and Riley."

"We're not all that sure that she's safe to be around," Black Star finished in an oddly serious tone. Soul was next to speak.

"Liz called me this morning and told me that she tried to resonate with her, but it ended the same way that it did in the training room that day. She also said that she wasn't hurting people on purpose, though."

"If she's not doing it on purpose then what's the problem?" I asked. "She just won't resonate."

"We're not saying she's a bad person," Maka explained. "We're just worried that something might happen and she could... snap and start hurting people even if she doesn't mean to."

"Like if Patty keeps grooming her," Black Star pointed to where the trio sat. Patty was, indeed, grooming Riley, attempting to take the clip out of her hair while Riley struggled. "I'd snap, too."

"Well," I began, "her room is at the opposite end of the house, so we'd have time to prepare-"

"Wait, what?" Soul questioned. "What are you talking about, Kid?"

"Oh." I realized that they didn't know about Riley moving in. After I explained the circumstances, minus a few details about a certain mercenary, they looked even more concerned.

"So you just invited your mortal enemy to live with you?" Tsubaki asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't really calling it living _with_ her," I tried to explain. "It's more like living _against_ her. And they always say to keep your friends close but your enemies closer."

"Who is this 'they' you're talking about?" Soul fumed. "'They' is the people who get killed because their friends were farther away than their enemies and their enemies had knives!"

"Listen, I get that you're all worried about me, and I'm glad that I have friends like you _to_ worry about me, but I'm nineteen and Liz is eighteen. We can take care of ourselves and Patty well enough. Plus, I don't think Riley would ever hurt anyone."

"Kid, she's sent you to the infirmary twice," Maka reminded me.

"I remember, but that... I don't know why, but that was different. All the other times she's hurt me have been out of somewhat-friendly anger, like a Maka-chop. But as for the kind of thing that happens when a witch or pre-kishin attacks, I don't think she's capable of it."

I heard a thud behind me. Turning around, I saw that Riley had fallen over in her chair attempting to escape the hands of the youngest Thompson sister. She looked at me with eyes full of "kill me" while Patty just laughed.

"Kyahaha! Kid, she fell down!"

"_He has eyes, you dimwit_," Riley muttered too quietly for Patty to hear over her own laughter. She picked herself up off the floor and made her way over to my group.

"_Oh no_," whispered Maka. I shot her a pointed glance before looing back to Riley.

"Sorry to interrupt your gossip session about me," she deadpanned and everyone turned red, "but I don't think I can handle that anymore. There can't possibly be anyone more annoying than her."

"HEY! YOU'RE THAT GIRL THAT ALMOST BEAT ME UP!" Black Star shouted in her face. "YOUR GOD CONGRATULATES YOU ON YOUR GOOD FORTUNE!"

"...Aaaaand, I'm wrong."

Even Soul had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. Black Star was horrified, though one could see mirth in his eyes; he had to have found it funny.

"Hi, Riley!" Maka plastered on a fake smile that made me sick to my stomach. "What's up?"

"You guys don't have to pretend to like me," Riley said bluntly. "Just... let me stand here so that Patty'll leave me alone for a bit."

"What gave you the idea that we didn't like you?" Tsubaki cocked her head innocently. Riley's eyes could have bored holes through steel.

"Well, I believe I got that idea from these two things on my head called 'ears,'" she said. "I didn't mean to overhear your conversation, but I have really good hearing."

"Just because we're scared of you doesn't mean we can't give you a chance," Maka said with a surprising amount of sincerity.

"People who are scared of the dark don't generally give it a chance. They plug in a nightlight to keep it away. That may be a really horrible metaphor, but it still applies," Riley tried to state emotionlessly, but I detected a tiny glimmer of sadness in her voice.

"How does it apply?"

Everyone turned to look at Black Star. He really was an idiot. Riley's eye twitched.

"I think my hiatus is at its end," she said lightly. "Thank you for letting me occupy a space of ground near you. I applaud your bravery." With that she turned and left the room. Professor Stein didn't even bother to stop her; even he feared the girl.

"Riley, wait!" I called after her, but the door had already closed behind her.

"We're really sorry, Kid," Maka apologized. I sighed.

"It's not your fault. It's just the entire situation. I'll go make sure she's okay."

"Are you sure you should do that?" Tsubaki asked. "You might get in a fight."

"It's nothing I can't handle," I replied and walked out the door.

I found Riley leaning her hands against the lockers in the next hall, head down, taking deep, steady breaths. She looked like she was sweating slightly, though the DWMA was generally cold.

"Riley, what was that for!?" I hissed, unable to contain my annoyance. "Don't you _want_ friends?" I think I knew the answer to that before she even opened her mouth. She sudddenly whipped her head around to glare at me.

"No, I _don't_ want friends," she spat lowly. "I came here to be trained as a meister, not to make friends."

"Well, with your uncanny ability to make people feel uncomfortable, your meister dream's out the window! What now? What are you going to do?"

"Lie down, try not to cry, cry a lot," she laughed darkly.

"Great. Instead of friends you're going to have a head full of internet references."

"_Going _to?" she scoffed. "It's already done. All the friends I need are inside my head."

"That's the mark of a schizophrenic, not a loner," I insisted. "All I'm going to ask of you is that you apologize to them."

"For what?" she wheeled around to face me. "For telling the truth? For not succumbing to the epidemic of bullshit sweeping the nation?"

"You are utterly impossible!"

She was breathing hard now, her shoulders raggedly rising and falling with every breath. The sheen of sweat across her forehead was much more obvious and the whispy parts of her hair danced in a breeze that wasn't there. She looked sick, utterly sick, with something.

"Riley, I was just kidding," I tried to calm her down. _Maybe a joke would diffuse the tension?_ "I mean, it's not like they're spreading rumors about us living together as more than project partners." _Fantastic joke. Nobel Prize for jokes. The trophy is shaped like your asymmetrical head._

"Are you _trying_ to give me a panic attack!?" she screeched at me and clawed at her hair, eyes wide. "I think I'm - oh God!" She slowly sank the the floor in a puddle just like she did in her previous panic attack. I rushed over to her and knelt down, rubbing circles on her back despite her instinct to recoil away from me.

"Deep breaths," I murmured. She erupted into a sudden bout of pants, then pushed me off of her.

"I don't need your help," she said all-too-steadily. "I can deal with this myself like I always have."

"What do you mean 'like you always have?'" I questioned her. She suddenly stood up.

"Nothing," she whispered harshly. "It means nothing except I think I'm gonna be sick."

She didn't collapse, but she did double over and place her hand over her mouth. I quickly dragged her to the nearest restroom and shoved her in, hoping she would be able to hold in the vomit long enough to get it in the toilet. After about ten minutes of hearing her retch and dry heave, she slowly, shamefully opened the door to find me leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

"Why did you wait?"

"I'm not all that sure," I admitted. "I just felt like it was the right thing to do."

"Well, what do you know," she smirked heavily. "Reaper Boy has a conscience."

Normally I would have bristled at that god-awful nickname, but the slight tinge of something behind her voice effectively distracted me. As I looked at her, something clicked into place. This wasn't just her personality; she was using sarcasm and dry wit to hide. What she was hiding from whom I may have never known, but I was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"What are you hiding?" I asked her out of the blue.

"W-what?" she stammered. I was definitely on to something; Riley wouldn't stammer unless absolutely terrified.

"The eyes, the crack in the wall, the super-strength, the fire, the mercenary, the martial arts skills of Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris combined, the panic attacks, the clothes, the sarcasm, that alcove off your room you wouldn't let me see, the flinching, how little you weigh, the aversion to people, the weird thing with your soul resonance, that notebook full of crappy poetry, _Beelzebub_," I took a deep breath. "You're hiding something. A lot of something, I'd guess."

She harshly brushed past me and started back for the classroom.

"Even if I did have something to hide I wouldn't tell you," she said gruffly. "I don't trust you."

"Well, what can I do to make you trust me?"

"Nothing!" she hissed. "Everyone is completely and utterly untrustworthy!"

_God, what has this girl seen to make her like this?_

"That's not true and you know it!" I took another deep breath. Then, an idea came to me. "Hey. How about you accompany me on a mission." She wheeled around and looked at me like I was a circus freak.

"What?"

"A mission - it's when my father says 'Hiya, Kiddo! I have more shit for you to do for me-'"

"I'm familiar with the concept of a mission, Reaper," she said quickly. "I'm just utterly baffled as to why you would ask me to come."

"Well," I stepped a bit closer to her so as to keep my words away from prying ears, "_You're a lot more like a shinigami than anyone else in this school. The super-strength and martial arts would come in handy._"

"So, you're not only asking me to accompany you on this mission," she said as a smirk slowly manfested itself on her face, "you're asking me for help."

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to punch her, kiss her, or laugh.

_Whoa, buddy. Where did that second option come from?_

"Wow," she chuckled. "The almighty death god asking the lowly DWMA student for help. I'm flattered-"

"But you won't do it. Of fucking course."

"Actually, I was going to say yes." My head snapped to her direction. "What is said mission?"

I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my face. This was going to actually going to be fun.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Riley's POV

I had been excited for this mission - Hell, I had dreamt about it every night since he invited me. Two weeks after we had that conversation in the hallway, two long weeks of enduring his weapons' giggling at all hours of the night, we were walking down the middle of a dark brick street surrounded by brick buildings. In the middle of Dallas, Texas. And I was about to lose my shit.

Kid held a newspaper in his hand and was skimming the headlines as we walked. He suddenly stopped and re-read an article before handing the paper to me.

"This is what we're investigating," he pointed to a picture.

My heart stopped.

The picture was an aerial photograph of a demolished Dallas city block not five blocks from where we now stood. You could see the smoke rising from the charred bricks and hundreds of bodies strewn along the streets. The headline was "Five-Year Anniversary of Heart of Mary Bombing," and, after skimming the article, I was shaking.

"I know, it's sick," Kid spat at the image. My heart was beating out of control, but I found a slight bit of comfort in the fact that he thought what they had done was sick, too. "An illegal prostitution ring in the basement of a church? Who does that?"

I could have given him a mile-long list of names.

"So what are we doing here?" I tried to keep my voice steady.

"We're doing a routine follow-up on the case. We suspect that the ring-leaders may have been eating human souls."

"So is that why you didn't bring your weapons?" I asked and motioned to the empty slots on his belt. He nodded.

"It's been five years since the explosion happened, so my father doesn't think it's going to give us any trouble."

"That's not for certain, Reaper," I warned and scanned the area. We had walked an entire city block lost in the conversation, and it wasn't the best place to be at one o'clock in the morning. "And why the hell are we here at this god-forsaken hour?"

"That's when kishins are most active," he explained. "They didn't find any unusual bodies in the rubble, so my father believes that there weren't any kishins."

"What do you think?" He paused for a long moment.

"I think," he said slowly, "that the kishins escaped and are still terrorizing Dallas."

"I think you're wrong," I said a little too quickly. Reaper Boy looked at me in confusion.

"Why?"

"I, um-" I was thankfully interrupted by the sound of a scuffle around the corner. I knew this city like the back of my hand, even if had been five years since I'd been there, so I knew to stay away from night fights. Especially if you were unarmed.

_But you're not unarmed..._

_That is for emergencies only, Interloper._

_This could qualify. You never know._

_I am going to do everything in my power to keep it from qualifying._

With that thought I pressed Kid against a wall and pressed a finger to my lips. But then, my soul perception picked up someone all too familiar.

"_Jabberwocky_," I spat quietly.

"_Who?"_

_"We've found who we're looking for_."

Before I could stop him, the idiot had stepped out of the shadows to confront him.

"Reaper, wait!" I grabbed at him, but it was too late. I ran out into the open in a desperate attempt at a covert op, but the guys involved with the scuffle had already seen us. "Shit!"

One of the men, the one I knew as Jabberwocky, looked between the two of us and smirked maliciously.

"Well well well," he dropped the bloodied man he had been holding into the arms of his accomplices. "Look who's joined us for dinner."

_Please don't recognize me please don't recognize me please don't recognize me please -_

"Stop what you're doing," Kid commanded. Jabberwocky threw his head back and laughed that horrible laugh I knew all too well.

"Who are you to tell me to do anything? I _own_ these streets." I could see Kid getting angry, and it wasn't helping that Jabberwocky had an asymmetrical ear piercing.

"Who am _I_?" Kid growled. "_I _am-"

"Nobody!" I finished his sentence. "Absolutely nobody!" Jabberwocky turned his gaze to me, and I knew I had made a huge mistake.

"Boys!" he called without looking away from my shadowy face. "It looks like dessert just came to us!"

"Absolutely _not_," Kid growled at them. I turned to look at him in shock. _Did he actually care?_

_Of course not! Who would ever care about you?_

_Okay, I am about two thousand percent done with your shit!_

"Oh!" Jabberwocky mocked him. "Looks like we've got a pair of lovebirds on our hands here!" The rest of his gang jeered and tossed the beaten man to the street. Reaper Boy and I were blushing furiously. "Let's show 'em what happens when you threaten the Hellions."

In an instant he was on me, pinning me into the brick of the building next to us. I was too hyped up on adrenaline to even _think_ about having a panic attack. But when he grabbed my face and yanked it up to look me in the eye, his eyes widened. I could feel his gaze rake over the scar on my jaw.

"Well, holy shit!" he exclaimed with glee. "It's Ass Girl!" The rest of the gang, which consisted of four other people, blew wolf whistles and made various other sounds of approval.

"What did you just call her!?" Kid screamed at them.

"Don't do anything stupid, Reaper!" I shouted at him without looking away from Jabberwocky. "This is my fight."

"Oh, so that's why you came back?" my captor sneered. "To get revenge? I thought it was to get what sluts like you deserve."

"How dare you talk to her like that-"

"Reaper, that qualifies as stupid!" I warned him.

"Smart girl. Then again, you were always pretty smart. But you always had that fire in your eyes." Jabberwocky laughed at himself. "I think _that's_ what got you so much action! You know the customers were always coming back because of your tight little ass."

"_You had your way with me then_," I growled lowly, "_but not now_." My eyes felt like they were burning, so I closed them. When I lifted my lids once more, I knew my irises would be red. Jabberwocky didn't even see it coming as I planted a kick square in his chest and sent him flying across the wide street.

In an instant his cronies were attacking me. Kid backed up against me as we were circled, promising to keep one side covered if I got the other. I quickly agreed and attacked.

Crony A tried to jab me in the stomach, but I used his proximity to my advantage and uppercutted him. With a sickening crack I broke his jaw and a few vertebrae in his neck; he fell to the ground, very obviously dead. Crony B swung his leg up to kick me in the head, but I cleanly dodged and frontflipped out of the way, using my foot to smash against his head as I did the aerial. I could hear his skull crack deliciously and saw blood pour from the gash, and I wanted nothing more than to lick all that delicious blood, and gore, and tear flesh, and smell that glorious smell of death I had created... But God, that wasn't me!

Kid was in the process of taking out Crony C, and Crony D had retreated to God-knows-where. The aforementioned shinigami was dancing around Crony C in an effort to take him alive. In a moment of fury, I tackled the crony and snapped his neck with my hands.

"Riley!" Kid sounded horrified. But... why? I had just helped him. And all the pretty blood was spilling everywhere... It was heavenly! I drug my hands through the blood on the ground and cackled wildly, then I spoke to him with a singsong voice.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy!" I giggled, my eyes glowing. "Come _play_, Reaper Boy!"

"RILEY!" I felt the sudden contact of a boot against my face that sent me flying down the street. When I finally skidded to a halt at the next intersection, I was myself again. Utterly disgusted with myself, I hurriedly wiped my bloody hands on my sweatshirt.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God..." someone was mumbling fearfully.

It was a moment before I realized that that someone was me.

"Riley, get up!" Kid extended his hand to me. "More are coming!"

His warning came too late. Before we could run, reinforcements came with Crony D leading the way.

"I'll summon Beelzebub," Kid whispered.

"Escape?"

Jabberwocky's disgusting voice filled my ears. I wheeled around to see him no more than two feet from us.

"What do you want with us?" Kid growled and stood in front of me protectively.

"I just want to get _you _out of the way," Jabberwocky grinned evilly, "so that _bitch_ behind you can get what little tramps like her deserve."

I wanted to cry. I wanted to spit. But most of all, I wanted to see him die.

"She's not a tramp!" Kid defended me. _Why the hell is he defending me?_ "I'll kill you all!"

In that moment, everything was still. I could hear the quiet, soothing hum of electricity as it coursed through the streetlamps. I smelled the scent of sweat and left-over cornmeal from the tortilla factories. I felt the sticky blood soaking through my shirt and on to my skin. It was completely and utterly still.

Until it was all broken by the sound of a gunshot.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Riley's POV

Kid let out a blood-curdling scream as a bullet ripped through his shoulder.

"REAPER!" I clutched him protectively to my chest. The sight would have been comical, what with him being so tall that his legs dragged the ground, if the situation had been any different. Another bullet whizzed through the air and hit him square in the other shoulder.

"Let's see you try to fight now!" Jabberwocky sneered. "Get her!"

That was it.

I jumped as high as possible, somehow landing on a fire escape. I sat Kid down atop a step.

"Riley, just get Beelzebub and go!" he told me with tears of pain pricking in his eyes.

"If I summon Beelzebub, you are going to pass out from pain and I have no idea how to ride a magical flying skateboard!" I yelled at him. "And I'm not leaving you here to die!"

Bullets were flying, but I kept them at bay with my abilities. I knelt down and tore the sleeves from Kid's suit jacket and tied them around his shoulders.

"I will fucking kill you if you die, okay?" he said, panting. I nodded in understanding and leapt to the ground.

The gang had surrounded me, but I was eerily confident. A few cronies ambushed me, but I was ready, blocking all attacks and knocking the guns from their hands before catching them in my own. With said weaponry I was able to gun down twelve of the guys before the bullets ran out. A man in a torn leather jacket tried to punch me, but I flipped him over my shoulder and curb-stomped him while shooting another two with the gun I had filched from his belt. When the chamber was empty, I used the handle to club a couple more over the head.

A boot came flying at my head. Instinctively, I caught the leg it was attached to and twisted, putting the man completely at my mercy. I chose to use him as a weapon himself, flinging him back into the crowd to take down a few more men. They all advanced upon me at once now.

"You guys just don't stop, do you?"

I jumped and, Matrix-style, kicked two men in the face simultaneously. A few weapons had been dropped and were used to mow down the few attackers closest to me. Turning suddenly, I eyed Kid and tossed him a gun which I presumed was loaded.

"Shoot to maim!" I commanded him. He caught it, wincing slightly, and nodded in understanding before pulling the trigger to shoot at someone's knees. The smell of blood was thick in the air, and I was going crazy. But, oh God I couldn't! Kid was counting on me! Hell, _I_ was counting on me!

Looking around, I saw everybody was dead... except for a lone figure standing, shaking in the middle of it all. Jabberwocky's soul was quivering in terror, his eyes looking at me as if he were looking at a monster.

And, honestly, I didn't blame him. I _was_ a monster.

"Stay away from me!" he screeched and started to run, but he hit a wall instead. I was immediately looming over him.

"What do you know about Byron Roland?" I asked him. His eyes widened even more and his lips quivered.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You are all so full of _bullshit!_" I screamed and pinned him against the wall. "How does it feel, huh? How does it _feel _to be completely and utterly powerless and see all of your friends get hurt?" I slammed his wrists back into the building. "I want to know how it feels to you! Do you enjoy it!? Is this your idea of a perfect Sunday afternoon picnic!?" He shook his head and cried.

"Why are you-"

"You know exactly why I'm doing this," I growled. "Now tell me what you know about Byron Roland!"

"He's the new head of the operation!" he sobbed. "He took over when the ring leaders got blown up."

"Are you still involved with the ring? Does the ring still exist?"

He nodded his head.

"Where is it **located**?"

"I don't know! I'm just a hitman! The headquarters moved when the church blew up!" He **started** to sob harder. "What are you!?"

I suddenly felt a surge of heat in my stomach, threatening to explode. This was what happened in the fire, this was what happened here... But I was _not_ going to let myself go again. And I sure as hell wasn't going to let this man live to kill again or tell anyone where I was.

"I don't know what I am! But I sure as hell know what you are!" I yelled in his face. "You're the real monster here."

That was the last thing he ever heard other than the crack of his own neck breaking.

I dropped him like a rag doll and slowly backed away. There had to be thirty of them all together, dead and strewn across the ground like worms after a rainstorm. I couldn't help but realize that each of them had a name, a family, a dream, fears, hopes... And I had stolen everything from them with a twist of my fingers.

I ran back to Kid and jumped up to the fire escape. He looked at me in absolute shock as I leaned against the **railing** and panted.

"Are you alright?" I asked him after a while.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely in reply. "Where did you learn all of that." I winced.

"I... picked it up along the way." Kid's eyes widened further.

"Along what way? Along the Trail of Tears? Along the road to Calvary? Along that famed highway to Hell?"

"I don't know!" I yelled at him. We both fell quiet and I successfully fought back tears. I whispered the next part. "Why did you ask me to come along for this?"

"I... I thought that if we ran into trouble I would save you and earn your trust."

"Well, that idea flew out the **window**," I motioned to his wounds and laghed darkly. "That idea jumped out the window and fell to its death five stories below."

"You just got through killing thirty people and you're still making jokes? How do you do it?" I was silent for a moment before I **answered** him.

"It's all I've ever done."

Kid's POV

This... This was taking "badass" to a whole new level. But when she said that, I finally saw _her_; this was a broken girl determined to fix herself, and I had a feeling that that Jabberwocky prick had something to do with it.

"How are we going to get back to the Gallows?" she breathlessly asked me.

"I have mirrors in my back pockets," I said. "If you'll get them out I can take it from there." I could have sworn she turned slightly pink, but she complied nonetheless. I almost laughed at how skillfully she avoided touching my ass, but another part of me lamented the lack of contact.

_Whoa, what the fuck?_

When she fished them out, I gave her my father's number and asked her to write it on the mirror. She did and then handed it to me. A moment later my ridiculous father's face appeared in the **glass**.

"Hiya, Kiddo!" he chirped, as usual. "How'd the mission go?"

"Well-" I began, but I soon felt the mirror snatched from my hands.

"Oh, I'll tell you how the mission went," growled Riley at my father. "WE ALMOST GOT KILLED BECAUSE A CERTAIN DEATH GOD DECIDED IT WOULD BE OKAY TO SEND HIS OWN SON ON A MISSION WITHOUT HIS WEAPONS! AND IN DOWNTOWN DALLAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!? DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THIS PLACE IS AT NIGHT!? WE RAN INTO A STREET GANG THAT ALMOST MURDERED YOUR SON AND ALMOST RAPED ME! LOOK! LOOK AT WHAT I HAD TO DO TO KEEP YOUR STUPID-ASS SON ALIVE!" She **proceeded** to hold the mirror over the edge of the railing to show my father the damage. Although I was terrified of the wrath of my father, I found this hilarious.

"DID YOU SEE WELL ENOUGH!?" she looked back into the mirror. "DID YOU SEE THE **RESULTS** OF YOUR STUPID DECISION!? NOT TO MENTION THE LITTLE SHIT SITTING ACROSS FROM ME CURRENTLY LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF RIGHT NOW GOT SHOT IN BOTH HIS SHOULDERS SO HE CAN HARDLY MOVE HIS ARMS! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!? DO YOU HAVE _ANYTHING_ TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!? IF YOU DO, THEN YOU CAN TAKE IT UP WITH THE IDIOT I'M ABOUT TO HAND YOU TO!" She thrust the pocket mirror back into my hands and leapt down from the fire escape. An elderly hispanic woman peeked her head from the **window** and said something in Spanish to which Riley replied "Soy el Diablo! He venido a recoger sus almas!" and stormed off. My father was completely silent.

"Dad?" I said through my waning laughter.

"I know this is a very serious situation," he croaked, "but I am finding it very hard not to laugh."

"Don't feel too bad. I just got shot twice and I'm laughing," I reassured him. "But I can't use Beelzebub like this. Could you please let us pass through the mirrors?"

"Sure thing, son. Where do you want to end up? Death **room**? Dispensary?"

"Home," I sighed. "I want to go home."


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Riley's POV

When I finally got him home, Kid was exhausted. He looked deathly pale (pardon the pun) and his legs were faltering. I had resolved to get him to a hospital as soon as possible, but I soon realized he didn't have the energy. So, the moment we were teleported to the Gallows I dragged him into his bathroom.

"How did you know where my room was?" he asked through the pain.

"I guessed. It's in the middle of the house, so it's fairly symmetrically placed."

"We've known each other for less than a month and you can already read me like a fucking book," he chuckled and plopped down atop the toilet lid. "Classic."

"A children's book, no less," I smirked in his direction as I dug through his bathroom drawers.

"What are you looking for?"

"Tweezers," I replied and grabbed a first aid kit.

"Check the bottom drawer at the back." They were exactly where he had said they were. I pulled them out and placed them on top of the first aid kit. I then yanked a washcloth from his towel rack and added it to the pile. Now came the weird part.

"This is going to be really awkward," I told him, "but you're going to have to take off your shirt." He looked at his bandaged arms and then back to me.

"This is also going to be really awkward," he said with a rising blush dusting his cheeks, "but you're going to have to help me." Now we were both blushing and avoiding the other's eyes.

"Well," I finally said, kneeling down to untie the makeshift bandages, "at least you didn't have a symmetry meltdown."

"What?"

"The sleeves are tied asymmetrically."

He looked down in horror at the "asymetrical monstrosity" affixed to his arms. I swear, he almost started crying.

"You know, a good friend would start consoling you about how you're not asymmetrical garbage," I said and began untying the other sleeve. Damn, I had tied them tied. "But we're not technically friends, so suck it up, Princess." He snorted but recovered.

Next I began undoing the buttons on his shirt, slowly but surely revealing the (once again, pardon the pun) chest of a god. Lean martial arts muscles plated his body, complete with a six-pack and toned arms that I couldn't believe I hadn't felt when I was bandaging his wounds on the fire escape. Both of our faces had turned absolutely crimson, I'm sure, but we refused to look at each other.

When his shirt was removed I took a look at his wounds. They weren't deep, but the bullets were still embedded in his flesh. I grabbed the tweezers and, after washing them and sanitizing them with rubbing alcohol, gingerly removed the bullet from his left shoulder. We were both in for a surprise. The bullet, though thoroughly squashed, was huge, with a slight sharp point at its tip. I held it up to the light with the tweezers.

"Mother of God," I whispered, then turned back to Kid. "This is an armor-piercing round. How did it not-"

"The perks of being a death god," he said. "We don't go down so easily."

After I had removed the other bullet and placed them both in a glass by the sink, I ran the washcloth under the water and wrung it out. Then, I knelt back down in front of the wounded shinigami and began daubing at the dried blood around the wound.

"How do you know how to do this?" he winced when I pulled down on his skin too hard.

"Sorry," I murmured for the pain. "I've gotten shot more than a few times. I've learned on myself."

"How did you get shot?"

I suppressed a shudder and stayed silent. I didn't think I was ready to talk about this.

"Riley?"

"This might sting a little," I said and gently rubbed an alcohol-soaked Q-tip in on of his wounds. He winced but said my name again. "What?"

"How did you get shot?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Reaper," I said lowly. "Time doesn't heal all wounds."

"I understand," he murmured and fell silent.

I tried not to think about those particular experiences, but a few bubbled up to the surface. Jabberwocky and his gang laughing viciously as I lay bleeding. A faceless man smelling of tobacco - God, they all smelled like tobacco - at point-blank range. I needed a distraction from it, so I threw myself back into reality and just stared at the wound I was cleaning, but I soon found myself marveling at Kid's sculpted chest.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

_Would you like a list?_

When I finally finished treating and dressing his wounds, I helped him stand and led him to his bed.

"Don't get any ideas about having me help you change the rest of your clothes," I said, forcing a smirk. Kid must have seen right through me.

"Riley, how did Jabberwocky know you," he asked quietly. "And why did he call you 'Ass Girl?'"

_"Hey, Ass Girl!" Jabberwocky and his cronies laugh at me from their place on the steps. "You've got another customer!"_

_By now, I've learned to keep my mouth shut but I never have to do anything willingly. So when the next faceless man comes to claim me at my place on the floor, I spit in his face and glare at him. Jabberwocky and his group, the Hellions, laugh and the faceless man slaps me across the face, but I don't cry._

_"That's Ass Girl for ya!" shouts one of the Hellions. "Feisty as ever."_

_"That's good," grins the faceless man. "I like 'em feisty."_

"Riley!"

When I snapped out of my flashback I was leaning over and bracing myself against Kid's desk. The shinigami was looking at me worriedly, but he could do nothing for me with his hurt shoulders.

"I'm okay," I replied shakily. "The panic attacks are getting better. They're not as long and not as frequent."

"That doesn't explain why you-"

I silenced him with a glance.

"I don't want to talk about Jabberwocky," I said exhaustedly. "Not now, not ever."

I helped him get under the covers and take off his shoes before I left his room. This was going to be a long night.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Kid's POV

I had healed by the next morning thanks to my shinigami abilities and Riley's medical attention. My shoulders were still sore, but that couldn't be helped. For once I was awakened by her instead of the other way around.

"GET UP, ASSTARD! THE DAY WAITS FOR NO ONE!"

I groaned and turned over while covering my head with a pillow.

"Go away," I muttered through the fabric.

"NOPE!" she grunted. I wondered why it had been a grunt, but I soon got my answer when my door fell to the ground under Riley's foot. I suddenly felt the covers being ripped from my bed and a shock of cold air washing over me. I just curled farther into myself and groaned.

"You are getting up!" she said and tried to drag me from the bed. I grabbed one of my pillows and started to attack her with it, praying to all things holy it would stay symmetrical. Riley, however, didn't back down, and grabbed the other pillow and retaliated.

Both the room and we were soon covered in white feathers. I had woken up completely, even forgetting about the soreness in my shoulders momentarily, but I absolutely refused to leave the bed; this was now a battle of principles.

"Get out of the goddamn bed!" she emphasized every word with a smack over the head. She reached over and grabbed me by the leg and started to drag me out of bed, but I would have none of it; so, I grabbed her by the arm and yanked her down on to the bed with me.

"You bitch!" she screamed. "You'll pay for this!"

"Hey, you're the one who woke me up on a Saturday!" I yelled back through the pillow she was currently hitting me with. Somewhere along the way, we had started to laugh uncontrollably; so much, in fact, that I was getting a stomach cramp from it. Feathers flew wildly sround the room, settling, to my later dismay, in every nook and cranny. Right then, however, I didn't give a damn about symmetry. All I could concentrate on were this ridiculous woman who was tackling me and the insults which we hurled at each other.

"Chicken shit!"

"Three-striped asshole!"

"Drunken daffodil-beating gorrilla!"

"Nonsensical retard!"

With one quick movement I had her pinned beneath me. I was about to say something clever, but the way she looked stopped me in my tracks. Her cheeks were flushed and her clipped-up hair stuck out at odd angles against the feathers strewn across my mattress; her grey eyes were bright with dying laughter and framed by long, thick, dark eyelashes, and her full pink lips held a fading smile.

Neither of us was laughing now; all traces of our previous activity had left her face, and she stared at me with a gaze that could melt steel. The silent tension between us was nearly physically palpable, and it pulled on my chest like I was caught on a fishing line. In an instant everything had left my mind except for a single thought.

_I want to kiss her_.

The single most badass, ridiculous, snarky, intelligent, beautiful woman I had ever met in my nineteen years of life was lying breathless beneath me. Like hell I was going to miss that chance!

But, as fate would have it, the moment that resolution came into my head, someone coughed in the doorway. Both Riley and I turned our horrified faces to look at the person.

"Are we interrupting something here?" Soul leaned against one side of the door frame. Opposite of him was Black Star, and both wore infuriating smirks. Riley immediately planted her feet on my chest and kicked, sending me off the bed.

"HA!" she laughed at me. "I WIN, BITCH!"

"Only _you_ could recover from that so quickly," I muttered and picked myself off the floor. Soul was holding back irritating sniggers while Black Star didn't bother to conceal his loud laughter.

"What the hell happened here!?" Soul wheezed through contained laughs.

"Well, Soul," Black Star grinned evilly, "when a man and a woman love each other very much-"

The ninja assassin was interrupted by a fist in his face. Riley's fist to be exact. That woman had to be bipolar or something. Turning back to me, she dusted the feathers from the front of her sweatshirt and spoke.

"The reason I came in here to _wake you up_," she looked pointedly at Soul, "was that your idiot friends are here with two liters of pepsi and about a dozen jars of Nutella proclaiming it's a 'guys' day.' Well, that's what Soul said, anyway. Black Star was screaming at me about how he would surpass God again."

"Good to know," I choked on my own words. I must have looked like a circus clown, shirtless with feathers sitting on top of my head (and everywhere else).

"So, I guess just start cleaning up the feathers and I'll be back with a broom," she sighed and pushed past Soul. Soul gave her a smirk to which she responded with something along the lines of "would you like to join your friend down there." My white-haired friend immediately stopped smiling and Riley left.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," he said while shaking his head, "that girl's a keeper."

"I think you mean a _creeper_," Black Star said weakly from the floor.

"_I_ think you mean a USDA certified homegrown bitch," I chuckled and bent down to gather feathers.

"What would Riley say if she heard you talk about her like that?"

"She'd probably agree," I snorted. "She's the one who came up with that phrase."

Twenty minutes later my bedroom was feather- (and pillow-) free and I sat in the living room, clothed, with Soul, Black Star, and a jar of Nutella.

"So, why exactly are you guys here?" I asked and dipped a Ritz cracker in Nutella.

"Guys' day, remember?" Black Star said like it was obvious. "It's the last Saturday of every month!" I groaned.

"I'm so sorry guys. I forgot.

"It's cool, man," Soul said. "We get you're a bit distracted what with having a new house mate." For absolutely no reason, I felt my face heat up. Black Star laughed loudly and pointed at me.

"He's embarraseed! HAHAHAHAHA!"

"_Would you like me to sic Riley on you?_" I threatened him. That shut him up, for once.

"So what _is_ going on between you two?" Soul asked as he cracked the seal on a pepsi bottle.

"Nothing!" I said a bit too quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive... But-"

"But what!?" Black Star was bouncing in his seat.

"How much soda has he had already?" I asked Soul.

"We originally had four bottles." I slowly slid the pepsi liters over to my side of the coffee table.

"No more pepsi for you, Black Star."

"A god like me doesn't need pepsi to have a good time!" he shouted and stood up on the couch. Suddenly his head was hit with a flying shoe.

"Enter the dragon, stage right," I mumbled into my hands.

"Reaper, could you toss that back to me?" Riley asked from the stairs. "Or do you need it to bludgeon him further?" I tossed the shoe back and thanked her.

"No offense, but what are you doing here? It's guy time," Soul asked.

"I live here, too, as much as I wish I didn't. I'm just going to raid his fridge," she said while walking to the kitchen.

"Please raid it symmetrically!" I called after her.

"What do you think I am? Considerate?" she called back with her head in the refrigerator.

"And there's the Riley we've grown to know and detest," I said. Once she was safely upstairs, Black Star burst and asked me "but what" again.

"I was getting to that before I was so _rudely_ interrupted by you."

"And _miraculously_ interrupted by a shoe," Soul added.

"Yes, and the shoe," I smiled slightly. "I was trying to say that, even though we fight a lot - okay, all the time... she kinda saved my life last night."

"WHAT!?" both my friends exclaimed.

"I had invited her to come along on a mission-"

"Why the fuck would you do that!?" Soul asked. "She's not a shinigami!"

"She's a lot stronger than she looks," I said and remembered the time when she dented that door. "Black Star should know." The ninja in question nodded and rubbed the bruise forming under his left eye. "Anyway, the mission went south pretty fast when we ran into a street gang. Long story short, I got shot in the shoulders and Riley took care of the gang."

Soul let out a low whistle, but Black Star was more fixated on me.

"Why do you look so weirded out by it?" he asked.

I could've said something along the lines of "Well, she went apeshit and started rolling around in pools of blood and then almost single-handedly slaughtered over thirty heavily-armed men twice her size and she knew that guy that ran the gang and I got fucking shot and they tried to rape Riley." I could've called my father and asked him about it. I could've called Professor Stein and requested he do a very special dissection. But, for some odd reason, I felt like something very bad was going to happen if the whole truth got out; so, I told half of it.

"The main guy - he kept calling himself Jabberwocky - he... he tried to rape her."

Both Soul and Black Star immediately recoiled.

"That's messed up."

"Definitely not cool."

"I agree," I said, "but the weirdest part was that they all seemed to know who she was. And Riley didn't even blink when he had her pinned. She just... kicked him and killed his henchmen."

"How many henchmen were there?" Black Star asked, already impressed.

"At first there were only four, but... one got away and brought back around thirty."

"_Thirty_? And she took them all out?" Soul asked incredulously. I nodded solemnly.

"I injured a few, but she was the one who killed them. And they all had guns!"

We held a moment of silence in fear and admiration of the badass who had manifested herself upstairs.

"She even cleaned and dressed my wounds," I said to my knees. "She said she knew how to do it," I gulped, "because she's been shot before and had to fix herself up."

"That," Black Star began, "IS AWESOME! I BET SHE HAS SOME REALLY AWESOME BATTLE SCARS! I BET THAT ONE ON HER CHEEK IS FROM-"

"Reaper!?" I vaguely heard Riley call through the ceiling. "Do you need that shoe back?"

"Nah!" I replied to the ceiling. "I got this one!"

Riley's POV

I refused to let it on, but I was exhausted. After realizing I wouldn't be able to sleep a wink, I had found my way down to the training room to blow off some steam. Only a shinigami could open those weapon cabinets, and I hadn't been in the mood to be more confused about my species, so I had decided to work on my hand-to-hand combat; and, as the Interloper had predicted, all the training dummies had turned into carbon copies of Byron Roland.

After I had gotten three slices of cold pizza out of Kid's fridge, I was heading back to the room I was staying in when all of the sudden -

"Ow!" I squeaked. A sudden sharp pain had pricked on the back of my shoulder. "Ow!" Another appeared on my left bicep.

_What the hell? There are no hornets in this place! Even if there were they wouldn't be able to sting me._

I passed it off as a muscle spasm, but something in the back of my mind was bugging me about it. I felt like I was... growing? I looked down.

_No, my jeans are still at the same level they've always been. My sweatshirt feels the same._

_Maybe it's not physical growth. Maybe it's psychological._

_Maybe I'll outgrow _you_._

After getting back to my borrowed bedroom (and gently depositing that glorious pizza on the desk), I locked the door and rushed into my bathroom. Along the way I had felt another prick on my shoulder and yet another on my right arm. I stripped off my sweatshirt and was surprised to feel blood soaking the arms. Reaching up to touch one of the places where I had hurt, my eyes widened in shock. Against my scarred skin and under pools of congealing blood rested a hard, slightly curved, warm disk.

_What the-_

Then, I looked in the mirror.

_Holy shit_.

In the places where I had felt the pain jutted forth what appeared to be dull black disks.

_Holy crap. You have scales._

I pressed my hands against the mirror and looked into my own eyes. They were wide, grey, and absolutely terrified.

_Mother of God what am I?_


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Kid's POV

After Soul and Black Star had left (which was at around nine that night, those assholes), I sought out my new housemate. Using my soul perception, I tried to feel her out; what I encountered - other than Liz and Patty's calm, giddy souls - made my heart hurt. Riley was located in the basement library with a soul full of pain, confusion, and fear. _My word_, there was so much fear. Without thinking, I ran to the basement.

When I found her, she was seated at a table with a copy of _Shinigamis: A Profile_ opened before her. She was doing an excellent job of keeping an emotionless face, but her soul was practically crying.

"Riley?" I said gently.

"What do you want, Reaper?"

"Your soul wavelength is out of control. I was-"

"Don't look at my soul!" she flinched ever-so-slightly. "It's an invasion of my privacy."

"Would sitting here and researching with you also be an invasion of your privacy?"

She looked up at me, and, for a moment, her eyes were wide and fearful. She quickly masked her emotions and shrugged her shoulders; I couldn't help but notice a tiny wince cross her face when she did this, but I passed it off as soreness from last night's fight. I quickly found a copy of _Shinigamis: A Profile_ and sat across from her, opening the book to a section on Beelzebub. After a moment, Riley spoke.

"Reaper?"

"Hm?"

"Last night, I... one of the guys I... killed, I noticed he had, um, _scales_ all up and down his arms."

"Scales?" I asked incredulously. "How on earth can a human develop scales?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "That's what I came down here to research."

"I could go ask my father," I offered. She stiffened momentarily, but then looked back to me.

"Would you?"

She sounded so ridiculously cute in that moment I had no choice but to quickly agree and leave before my face turned red. When I made it to my bedroom, I called my father, his face quickly materializing in my bedroom mirror and giving his standard greeting of "hiya, Kiddo!"

"Wazzup?" he asked and cocked his head. "Is something wrong? Are your bullet wounds not healing properly?"

"Just a research question, Father," I assured him coolly. "Riley said that she saw a man with scales on his arm last night. Not tattooed on, but actual scales. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about humans developing them."

He remained silent for almost a minute, and then sighed.

"Son," he began wearily, "I think it's time for you to know."

"Time for me to know what?"

"About demons."

Riley's POV

Up until the fifteenth century B.C.E., two shinigamis would reign simultaneously so as to temper the other's rash impulses. However, in that fateful century, the entire world changed.

One of the two shinigamis became so overwhelmed by his own fear of dying that he became obsessed with finding a route to immortality. This route, he discovered, was by becoming dark. As he turned dark, he unleashed the first madness upon the world and forfeited his position as a supreme shinigami; in fact, he surrendered his title as a shinigami. This new breed of "dark shinigamis" was dubbed "demons."

A demon, or a "dark shinigami," still retains most properties characteristic of a normal shinigami; for instance, the manipulation of shadows and the summoning of Beelzebub are feats of which a demon is capable. In appearance, like a shinigami, a demon is nearly indistinguishable from a human being. However, just as shinigamis possess some avian characteristic, demons are characterized by a slightly reptilian appearance; for example, the famed demon, Gorpaline, had pupils which were slits that ran vertically across his irises. Other reptilian characteristics which have been documented include low body temperature, a forked tongue, and a spattering of scales along certain areas of the body. According to several primary sources, not the least of which are ledgers kept by previous shinigamis, the more obviously reptilian the demon is, the more powerful.

Physically, shinigamis and demons are noticibly different; psychologically, however, the two may be as similar or as dissimilar as a pair of humans. The deciding factor in the comparison is the mental state of the shinigami, which varies from generation to generation. Demons, however, are nearly always the same: prone to mental illness, followed by bad luck, and lacking the self-control necessary to control their abilities. These aforementioned abilities have, according to several articles, included supernatural strength, supernatural speed, and supernatural intelligence. Never, however, has any demon been recorded to possess abilities outside the realm of a significant increase in a normal quality.

The general public has not been made aware of the existence of demons due to the extreme danger involved in fighting them. In fact, just as shinigamis are immortal unless killed by a kishin or demon, demons are immortal unless killed by a shinigami. According the to _Annals of Shinigami Philosophy_ by Richard R. Polasek, "[a] demon is the single most dangerous entity in the world as it is the physical manifestation of all human vice." For this reason, although the existence of a demon is, by nature, limited to one at a time, all demons must be eliminated upon contact.

So... this was what I was?

I wiped a few tears from my eyes and put the book down, trying not to lean up against the chair for fear of rubbing against the sensitive scales.

Reptilian appearance with the scales, supernatural strength and intelligence, the ability to manipulate shadows, the ability to summon Beelzebub, the telekinesis... kill on sight. Not that I hadn't tried before.

I didn't feel like crying. I felt like screaming and breaking things, like using my abilities to bring down the mansion. I had always believed myself to be a monster, but now that I had confirmation I felt like absolute shit. I didn't deserve to be in Kid's house – I didn't deserve to be in Death City – or even on the face of the planet-

My chair rocketed from under me and clanked against the far wall of the library, leaving me to fall on my ass. Hard. The dregs of power that followed my abilities were flowing through my arms, slowly making their way down to my tingling lower back. But I hadn't called upon my abilities-

_Isn't it fun to let me take over? To lose control?_

_I never gave you control!_

_Are you sure about that?_

I shook my head and stood up, trying to ignore that delicious feeling of power that was slowly draining from my limbs. I needed to get out of there before I lost control and blew up the whole fucking manor.

I ran into Kid on the way to the back yard. Literally.

"Watch where you're going," he said, dusting himself off. I wasn't in the mood, so, automatically, I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to my level.

"Watch where you're going, Riley," he laughed. I wasn't in the mood. I grabbed his collar and pulled him down to my level.

"What did your father tell you?" I asked while holding in a surge of power.

"What's gotten into you, ma-"

"_What_," I shook him, "did your father tell you?"

"He said that the man you saw was probably a demon and that he's not dead because demons can only be killed by a shinigami wielding a human weapon," he babbled.

"Did he tell you anything else?" I asked him while trying to keep the terror out of my voice. What if he had told Kid to kill me?

"He just said not to take one on on my own! Jeez, Riley, what's gotten into you?"

I released him and slowly walked backwards and grabbed my head. The Interloper was out of control, babbling horrible, _horrible _things in my head that were starting to sound so, _so _good.

_Imagine the fleshy tearing sound their meat would make when you dug your hands into it! All the blood, like a fountain! It would be so pretty!_

_No no no no no!_

_Nobody loves you, so you should just kill them all! It would be like revenge for what they all did to you in Dallas. It's poetic justice._

_That's not justice!_

_Just like when you murdered all those guys last night. It's so much fun!_

_No! I did that to protect Kid!_

_That stupid Reaper! You should have let him die. His family did nothing to help you and Lucy, so why should you help them? Do you remember that one line from _The Dark Knight_? "Some men just want to watch the world burn"? I think it would be better to watch it bleed! And hear it scream!_

_Nonononononononono!_

_You'd have all the control. Nobody could hurt you if you'd let me take over._

_NO! THIS ISN'T ME!_

_But _you_ don't even know who you are. How am _I_ supposed to know? This could be you - powerful, supreme, like a lone wolf in a forest. Just let me in._

"Riley?"

Kid's voice distracted me from the voice in my head. I finally realized that I was doubled over and holding one of his shoulders in a death grip for support. Hastily I jerked myself away from him and walked, albeit shakily, to my room with Kid on my heels.

"Riley, what's wrong with you?"

_Fucking _everything, _that's what!_

"Nothing," I lied badly. "I'm just really tired."

"That's bullshit and you know it," he growled and yanked me back around to face him. "Now tell me the truth."

"The truth is that -" I started, but I was cut off by excruciating pains bursting out along my shoulders. "FUCK!"

"Holy crap, Riley, what's-" Another scream tore through my throat and effectively interrupted him.

I felt like my back was on fire, or lots of tiny cattle-brands were being jabbed against my skin, or someone was taking a white-hot apple-corer and gouging out chunks of flesh. Kid scooped me up and raced into my bedroom, gently lying my writhing body atop my bed and struggling with what to do next.

"Get out!" I begged him. If I got any more worked up, this was going to end very, _very_ badly.

"Absolutely no way! Your back is bleeding like a poached animal!"

"Just leave it," I gasped and flailed off the bed. He was right about the bleeding - a sopping red splatter was soaking the bedsheets like a crime scene. I staggered into my bathroom and slammed the door closed and locked Kid out before sinking to the ground and undoubtedly leaving a long red streak down the pristine white door.

"Riley, let me in!" Kid pounded on the other side of the door. "Let me in or I swear to God I will break down this door!"

"No! This isn't something I want you to see! _Shit!_" Another sharp pain ate at my shoulder. "It's... It's going away."

I was actually telling the truth. The fire on my back and shoulders was ebbing into nothing more than a throbbing tenderness. When I told him this, he seemed only slightly appeased.

"Are you sure you don't need me to look at it?" Kid offered gently through the door. I shook my head even though I knew couldn't see me.

"I'm sure," I panted. "I'm just gonna take a shower now."

"Are you _sure _you don't need my help with that?" he chuckled lightly. I smiled in spite of myself.

"Of that I am _very_ sure, Reaper," I said and stood up wobbling.

Half an hour later I emerged from that glorious shower stall and patted myself down with a fluffy white towel. Examining the cloth I found no trace of dried blood, indicating that the water had done its job. Whenever I pressed to hard on my back, however, it was incredibly tender. My fingers brushed against something warm, hard, and lumpy on my shoulders, and I froze. I steadily turned around to examine it in the mirror, although I already knew what I'd see.

Along the line of my shoulders was a thick layer of those black scales, the cluster thinning down the length of my back (it somehow reminded me falling rain, though there were no definite lines or patterns to them) until it dissolved into nothing but scarred skin.

_Well_, I thought darkly_, at least the scars on my back aren't an issue anymore._

I noticed that the Interloper made not comment, indicating it had gone into its "sleep mode." I didn't think I'd ever been so relieved for sleep mode to come. Wrapping the towel tighter against my body, I encountered another problem - my clothes were disgusting.

"Reaper?" I croaked through the door.

"What is it?" came the reply. Of _course_ he would still be there. Ever the gentlemen.

"Do you... or the girls... have anything I could wear?"

"You mean you've been wearing the same clothes for the past week?" he asked, trying to keep the disgust from his voice. I told myself it was just because of his OCD, but my heart still sank slightly.

"I soak them in the sink when I get back to the room every day," I defended myself, in no mood for polite conversation. "They're clean every day."

"Well, what do you wear to sleep?"

I looked at the sink where my pajamas were currently soaking.

"My pajamas are a tad incapacitated at the moment." He sighed.

"Of course. What would you like?"

"Just something that will cover me. And I don't mean just covering the quote-unquote 'important parts.' You've seen what I normally wear."

"So... okay, I'll be right back. But don't hit me if it's something embarrassing or anything. My choices in casual wear are a bit limited."

"I make no promises," I chuckled and closed my eyes. This had been an absolutely exhausting day. Reaper-wrestling, cleaning up a pillow fight, six hours of straight research, finding out I'm a demon, having a fucking seizure and growing scales... All in a day's work.

I decided to scrub the blood from the door while I waited for Kid to come back. When that was done, almost as if on cue, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Delivery," came Kid's voice. I smiled slightly at the joke and cracked the door enough to grab the clothes.

"Thanks," I muttered and closed the door again. I suddenly realized why he had made me promise not to hit him. Although the plain black sweatshirt and sweatpants were fine, a pair of lace-lined black underwear and a matching bra made my face turn positively red.

"Mother of God!" I squeaked and flung the lingerie away from me. "Who's is that?"

"Liz's," Kid said, obviously embarrassed. "She said those were the plainest ones she could find and please don't make me go back." He sounded like a puppy terrified of a thunderstorm or something; it was so sad, so cute, and so hilarious I had to almost shove my fist in my mouth to keep from laughing.

"It's okay," I assured him, although I was incredibly embarrassed about what I was going to say next. "I-I have some extras in the top drawer of the dresser. Just, you know, hand me one of each."

I think both of us were about to die from too much blood to the face. I heard him fumble with the dresser and groan before cracking the door and flinging my undergarments in. I deftly caught them and closed the door, quickly dressing and replacing my soaking pajamas with the blood-stained clothes in the sink.

When I finally got out of the bathroom, I found Kid just sitting on my freshly-made bed, staring at his clasped hands with a slight blush on his face.

"Did you do that?" I gestured to the clean bed as I finished braiding my wet hair.

"It was the magic bed-making fairies," he joked weakly. "Couldn't you tell?"

"How could I miss it?" I lightly laughed along. "Someone as anal as you would have put mints symmetrically on the pillows."

I came and sat down on the opposite end of my bed, securing the end of my braid with a tiny hair elastic. We both sat in an awkward silence before he spoke again.

"You know," he started awkwardly, "whatever's wrong... with you or your life or the life of a secret pet hamster or something, I don't know, anything really... you can always tell me about it."

I felt tears prick behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I was touched by the offer, but I would never be able to tell him about me; it would terrify him, and it might send me on a homicidal demon rampage. I shook my head and tried to laugh, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm fine," I lied. "I guess everything's just been so stressful that my capillaries burst." He didn't seem to buy it, but he left it alone and stood up.

"Just so you know," I added, "this never happened." He nodded in understanding and started to leave, but immediately came back and wrapped his arms around me.

"Just... just get better," he murmured into my hair before he left. I was left sitting straight up on my bed in shock at what had just transpired.

That night, as I fell asleep, I tried to forget how good his arms felt when he hugged me. But, it _had_ felt so good; I hadn't had a hug in so long, I had forgotten what they felt like. And, try as I might, I couldn't deny how comforting it was to fall asleep to the scent of him on the clothes he had lent me.

My last coherent thought that night was me wondering how in the hell I knew what he smelled like.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

Kid's POV

I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew that it wasn't good. The terrified look on Riley's face was so chilling I knew it would haunt me for years. That night I resolved to never see her scared again.

We both had a lazy Sunday, sitting on opposite sides of the couch watching really bad SyFy horror movies. But not even the obviously-ketchup blood squirts could make us laugh after the events of the previous night... okay, that's a lie. We laughed our asses off. Liz and Patty thought we were absolutely nuts when they came in from their day with the girls to find us gasping for breath while several people lay decapitated on the television screen. I did notice, however, that Riley made a very conscious effort not to touch me.

The following morning, we met in the middle of the hall; apparently we were both on the way to wake the other. We laughed tiredly at that, and then Riley made a joke referencing one of the horrible movies we had seen yesterday, and we both laughed too loudly.

At school, to my surprise, nobody looked at Riley any differently than they had before. I thought for sure that Black Star would have blabbed about Riley's badassery to the entire school, but, apparently, the story circulating the hallways was...

"Oh my God, Kid!" a horde of girls descended upon me like moths to a flame - hell, a bonfire. "Did you really fight off all those gangsters by yourself?"

"Did you really get shot twelve times!?"

"Oh, Kid, you're so brave!"

"I-uh-" I was distracted by the sound of Riley trying, and failing, to contain her laughter. The girls were on her in a second.

"What do _you_ find so funny about that, girl?" one snapped.

"Are you mocking Kid's bravery? You would've run and hidden if you had been in that situation!"

Riley was turning blue with supressed laughs.

"_Just let it out, Riley_," I mumbled. She did, taking great gulps of air and supporting herself against a wall. All the Death the Girls (they were, unfortunately, large enough of a sect to have been given a name) glared at her with made-up eyes. When she finally calmed down, she turned back to them.

"Sorry, girls," she apologized insincerely. "I just found all the fangirling really, _really_... how should I put this... _stupid_." There was a collective intake of breath and practically everyone in the hallway stopped to watch. To my knowledge, no one had ever messed with my fan club - and, boy, was it sure great to watch.

"What do you mean, _stupid!?_" the one who appeared to be the ring leader attacked. "He's a death god! He should be praised like one!"

"_This _idiot?" Riley jabbed her thumb in my direction. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Hey, I'm not stupid," I protested, but she put her hand over my mouth to keep me quiet.

"No more words, Reaper," she said in a mockingly soothing voice. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to class."

"Not so fast, girlie!" the ring leader grabbed Riley by the arm. "Who are you to insult him?" My friend - wow, that was easier to think than I had expected it would be - jerked her arm away and smirked in response.

"Oh nobody," she said lighlty. "Just someone who's kicked his ass a few times." Another collective gasp came from the Death the Girls and a laugh came from the rest of the hallway.

"There is no way someone as little or petty as you could take down the great Death the Kid!"

This was getting way too close to a stereotypical harem anime or something. I could practically see the hearts-and-roses background hovering behind all these girls. It came as a shock to me that, before I had met Riley, I had adored this stupid fan club.

"Oh, you wanna bet?"

"Oh dear God no!" I brought my hands up into a defensive position. I probably looked like a child, but I did _not_ fancy starting my day off in the dispensary with a cold compress draped over me.

"See," Riley laughed. "I've got him trained."

"I wouldn't say _trained_," I grumbled. "More like _painfully aware_."

"What do you mean, Kid-kun?" a girl asked me in a sickly-sweet voice. I fought the urge to scream "KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!" and run off, but it was a very dificult fight.

"I mean she's telling the truth," I admitted. "As much as I hate to admit it, she has beaten me up several times." The students not a part of the Death the Girls laughed good-naturedly, but the neurotic fan club was absolutely shocked. In their eyes, apparently, I was some invincible god; hell, I had thought that myself before I met Riley.

Jeez, it was like I marked my time according to her arrival. B.R. and A.R. Before Riley and _Anno _Riley.

The bell rang, signaling the impending start of classes. At last, Riley and I were able to find our way to Professor Stein's classroom and find our usual seats. Another bell rang and the typical morning announcements were made over the intercom system. Except for one addition.

"_And as a reward for everyone's hard work, the DWMA has decided to revive the tradition of the customary Halloween Ball!_" buzzed my father's voice. "_Flyers will be posted on the boards at the front of every class! Feel free to take one for reference._"

The announcements ended with a click from the intercom and a general buzzing around the room. Several glances came my way, nearly all from those Death the Girls with whom I shared the class period, but I was more concerned about Riley. She let out a groan and rested her forehead against the desk. I got even more worried when she started to laugh slightly. Had the madness taken hold again?

"Riley?"

"Yeah?" she said through pained laughter.

"Are you okay?" I couldn't help the odd, confused smile that painted my lips.

"I'm fine," she chuckled harder. "I just... this is ridiculous! '_Oh, and by the way, there's a ball out of the blue!_' It's like a really poorly-written fanfiction." I had to agree.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," I said.

"Of course she does!" Liz sounded wounded beside me. "There is no way she's missing this!"

"Oh, there is _every_ way I'm missing this," she laughed and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Oh come on!" Patty protested. "Kiddo's gonna need you to fight off his fan club!"

"I can't argue with that," I agreed. "But it is Riley's choice, girls." I swore I heard Liz mumble something about "her choice, my ass."

Professor Stein suddenly made his entrance, failing, as usual, to cross the threshold without pitching forward in his rolling chair. Unperturbed by the fact that he was lying face-up on the floor, he took out a notebook from his coat pocket and held it in front of his face.

"I'm still missing Kid and Riley's questionnaire," he said in his monotone voice. "Have it in by Monday or it's a zero." Riley gave a noncommittal shrug and I held a weak thumbs-up in his direction.

The rest of class was another dissection lab which Riley slept through. After class, as all the students were walking out of the classroom, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Professor Stein's emotionless face.

"Kid, could I speak with you for a moment?" I nodded and told Liz, Patty, and Riley to go to lunch without me. Before they left, Liz swiped a ball flyer from the board and held it up to Riley's face. Riley looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. When they were gone, the professor turned to me.

"You wanted to speak to me, Professor?" I adressed him.

"Yes," he answered. "There is a story circulating around the Academy that you took out over a hundred armed gangsters single-handedly."

"Is that what they're saying?" I asked absent-mindedly.

"Now, I know that can't be true. Your father hasn't given me all the details, but I would like you to tell me what happened."

"Well, on the Heart of Mary check up in Dallas, Riley and I-"

"Wait, you invited her?" he asked, shocked. I nodded.

"We ran into about thirty gangsters in downtown Dallas, and they-" I shuddered at the memory, "they tried to rape her. Then they shot me in the shoulders."

"So how were you able to fight them without your arms or weapons?"

"I wasn't."

"Then-" Even behind the glare of his glasses I could tell his eyes were wide as saucers. "You mean... _she_ took them out?"

"She got me to safety and then killed them. I injured a few after she threw me a gun, but I'm not the one with blood on my hands." I paused. "I think that was the main reason why she was so insistant I not kill anybody. She didn't want to make me a murderer." Professor Stein whistled lowly.

"I knew she was good, but I don't know _anyone_ who could take on that many at once," he said in awe. "That's a good one to have on your side, Kid." I nodded. He didn't even know the half of it; she was smart, strong, witty, _hilarious_, gorgeous-

_Okay, what the hell is happening to me?_

"Kid?"

"Hm?" I looked up with a start. "Sorry. Daydream." the professor smirked lightly. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said airily. "Run along now. Go catch up to the woman of your dreams."

"Okay, I w- hold the fuck up!"

He just laughed as I stormed, blushing furiously, out of the classroom and down to the cafeteria.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Riley's POV

When school was let out that day Liz and Patty practically dragged me back to the Gallows.

"We're gonna make sure you love this!" Liz giggled uncharacteristically.

"Kyahahaha!" giggled Patty annoyingly. I guessed that was a sound of agreement. I, however, was in complete _dis_agreement.

"Do you even know me?" I asked incredulously as they pushed me into a dressing room.

"Yup!" Patty chirped. "That's how we know how to make you like it!"

"The only way I'm going to enjoy this is if I get to leave right now."

"Don't be such a Debbie Downer," Liz chastised. "That's no way for a princess to be."

"Excuse me, but I believe Reaper Boy is more of a princess than I am!"

"I heard that!" a muffled cry came from the other side of the door.

"REAPER!" I yelled and charged at the door. The girls tried to hold me back, but I was exponentially stronger than them. I burst through the door and dashed behind Kid.

"You're afraid of changing clothes?" he laughed at me.

"No!" I snapped. "I just find it disgusting." Secretly, I _was_ afraid to wear what I knew those girls would put me in; it would absolutely _shatter_ the physical ambiguity I had worked so hard to achieve.

"Come on, girl!" Liz laughed and approached me. I gave a small squeak of fear and grabbed Kid's shoulders as a human (shinigami) shield.

"Take him!" I said.

"Riley-" Kid started, obviously trying to hold back laughter.

"Don't come any closer, Liz!" I warned her. When she disregarded my warning, I ran for it.

"Come back here!" Patty yelled and chased after me.

"I'm not stupid!" I called back at her. But it was too late. The minute I slowed down to yell at her she tackled me, sending me sprawling to the ground. And the minute I felt her lying on top of me, I began to have a panic attack.

"No!" I screeched, visions of sweaty, faceless men and the smell of tobacco and the sound of my own pained whimpering overloading my senses.

"OWWIE!"

I was jolted out of my nightmare by a loud thud and the sound of Patty's pain; in my incoherent state, I must have sent her flying down the hall with a tremendous push. Suddenly I felt a surge of power escape and smash into the wall, knocking several pieces of art to the ground.

"The symmetry!" Kid screamed and rushed to hang the pictures back on the wall. Liz was comforting Patty and examining the carpet burn I had caused her.

_Wasn't that fun?_

_I could have killed the girl, you moron!_

_Isn't that what demons do? Kill? Rip, tear, mutilate?_

_Stop it! You aren't me!_

_I most certainly _am_ you._

"Riley, what is wrong with you!?" Liz yelled at me.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologized. "I didn't mean to do that! I just... lost control..."

Liz and Patty were quick to forgive me, but as the week progressed and the stupid ball got closer, I was freaking the fuck out; not just at the prospect of attending the damn thing, but because, over the course of the week, my demonic instincts were becoming harder and harder to control. More than once I had woken up in the middle of the night to the Interloper instructing me to kill the shinigami and his weapons, and more than once I had crept down the hall with every intention of doing so.

Even school was nightmarish. Whenever one of Kid's stupid fangirls approached, I suddenly got the urge to hunt, to kill, to do _anything_ that would involve them writhing in pain on the ground; I found myself getting _way_ too into the dissections we did in Stein's class; and, most terrifyingly of all, I was blanking out for short periods of time only to come to hovering over a terrified classmate. I always apologized profusely and went to the dispensary, but I was horrified with myself and scared to interact with anyone. I had begun to distance myself even further away from everyone; and, in doing so, I found my heart absolutely aching for the first time in a long time.

On Wednesday, the day before the cursed ball, there was a knock on my borrowed bedroom's door. I sat curled on my bed while levitating a pencil in the hope of exhausting myself, but I quickly dropped it and went to the door. When I opened it, I came face-to-face (or face-to-neck) with Kid and let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding. That ache in my heart subsided substantially, and I realized that it was him I'd been wanting to see.

"What do you want, Reaper?" I asked gruffly to try to make myself hate him. It didn't work remotely.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked bluntly.

"What are you talking about? I opened the door, didn't I?"

"That's not what I mean," he sighed. "Could I come in?" I nodded hesitantly. Slowly, he walked into the room and sat in the desk chair. I stood awkwardly on the other side of the room, as far as I could possibly be from him.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," he gestured to me. "It's like you don't even want to look at me." I shook my head.

"That's not it," I said to the dresser. "You know what's been happening."

"No I don't," he countered. "I have no fucking _idea_ what's going on, you idiot," he crossed to me and placed his arms on the wall on either side of my head.

"My panic attacks have been getting worse," I mumbled. "And I've started to attack people without even trying. I just don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me."

"_That's _it?" I asked incredulously. "You think you're going to hurt someone?"

"You're not deaf. You figure it out," I said, glaring at him. Then I lowered my voice. "You saw what I did to those men back in Texas. For the past three days I've been blacking out just to find myself standing over someone with my fist ready to swing! Imagine what I would do to those people!"

"You're not going to hurt anyone."

"How can you be so sure? I seem to have quite the talent for it," I snapped.

"I'm sure because I can feel it." I backed flush against the wall.

"Stop feeling my soul, Reaper!" He leaned closer to me, close enough that I could practically _see_ the hardness, certainty in his eyes.

"I'm sure because you're so damn scared of hurting people that it hurts _you_. That's okay. Hell, that's a _good_ thing. That's part of what makes you human."

_Oh, the irony._

"Is this all you came here for?" I asked sharply. "To give me life lessons?"

"No," his face turned slightly pink. "I actually came here to..."

"Spit it out, Reaper Boy."

"Fine!" he glared at me. "I came here, at the insistence of Liz and Patty, to ask you to come with me to the ball tomorrow."

_What._

_The._

_Fuck._

"Excuse me?"

"If I have to go to another one of these stupid things, I'm dragging you with me."

"Do you think I'm fit to be in that kind of a situation?" I laughed incredulously. "I can't even go to school without having a panic attack nowadays. I'm going to have an episode!" Kid hung his head and huffed before looking back up at me.

"I'll be there to punch you if you go all red-eyed, okay?" he assured me. "If it gets too bad we can get you down to the training room."

"I don't know how to act at these things."

"Just be your normal grey-eyed self."

"I don't have anything to wear."

"Oh for God's sake. Just go?" he whined. "Please?"

"Fuck it, fine!" I caved. "But your weapons are not dressing me!" He groaned.

"They already have an entire rack of ridiculous things ready for you to pick from," he said weakly. I laughed sardonically.

"Great. I'm going to end up on YouTube within twenty-four hours. 'Girl Dropkicks Friend Trying to Put Her in a Dress.'" Kid laughed along in much the same tone.

"Thank you," he said softly after our laughter had died. "I didn't want to be set up with someone else."

"So you _would_ want to be set up with me?" I smirked. He turned crimson.

"Absolutely not!" he protested. "I just asked you as a friend or an enemy or as someone I can't stand but get along with eerily well!" I chuckled at his antics.

"Whatever, Reaper," I shook my head. I was suddenly aware of how close we were, his arms caging my head and face mere inches from mine.

He was so goddamn attractive it wasn't fair.

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! I thought we went over this!_

But I was very aware of a tight feeling in my chest that I was getting around him more and more frequently. My stomach felt like it was getting ripped out of my abdomen, and my brain was on overdrive for insults. Also suddenly aware, Kid backed away awkwardly, looked at the floor, tried to say something, and left.

I closed the door after him and flopped face-down onto my bed. All I could picture was that weird face he would make whenever he saw something asymmetrical, the way his eyes were two different shades of gold, the way he kept his hands in his pockets to hide the asymmetrical callouses, that one weird squiggle in his hadwriting whenever he would write a "K"...

I sighed deeply and tried to block it all out. I was _not_ attracted to Death the Kid.

But I found myself wondering just when I had ceased to think of him as "Reaper Boy" and started to think of him as "Kid."

Kid's POV

When I got back to my bedroom I gently closed the door before covering my face with my hands and slumping down the door. I landed with my knees pulled up to my chest and a frustrated groan.

I had planned to simply knock on the door and ask her to accompany me to the Halloween Ball, but when I heard that gruff "what do you want" I felt that all too familiar pang in my chest that meant I was worried. I hadn't meant to come in, I hadn't meant to corner her against a wall, and I hadn't meant to get completely sucked into that beautiful face when she was talking.

I groaned again and leaned my head against my knees. I was _not_ attracted to Riley.

But _God_ she made me absolutely crazy.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Riley's POV

I had managed to get through Wednesday night and school Thursday (although it would have been all too convenient to black out and find myself pulverizing one of Kid's retarted fangirls). Although I was happy that I hadn't blown the fuck up, I had a sense of dread about the ball. And Liz and Patty's dress-up extravaganza wasn't helping in that department.

"_HELL_ no!" I screamed at Liz, who was holding up the tiniest flash of sequins to ever be called clothing.

"Oh come on, Riley! You'll look so hot in this!" she dangled the ugly dress thing in my face. I swatted it away and protested more.

"I refuse to wear a dress! I don't even want to _go_ to this stupid thing!"

"But Riley-chan," Patty whined. "It's the Halloween Ball!"

"Everyone who's anyone is going to be there," Liz coaxed.

"Maybe I don't _want_ to be anyone?" I countered. "Maybe I would prefer to fade into the background and-"

"You should've thought about that before you started sharing a residence with the DWMA's number one male specimen. Now put on the damn dress."

"God no!" I jumped clear to the other side of my borrowed bedroom. Liz and Patty had set up a rolling clothes rack of formal dresses in front of my door and were bombarding me with some of the skimpiest pieces of clothing to ever be marketed. They hoped to find me a dress for this god-forsaken dance, and I was determined to make it as difficult as humanly possible.

"What about this one?" Patty held up an even shorter red... shirt. No way that could have been sold as a dress.

"Or this one?" Liz pulled an electric blue - what the hell is shorter than a shirt!?

"Just stop!" I screamed at them. I knew Kid was probably laughing his pathetic balls off hearing this. The thought made me even madder.

"Do you like any of these?" Liz inquired. I rapidly shook my head no, even though the dresses' "NOPE" levels were _way_ over nine thousand. I mentally slapped myself for the Dragon Ball Z reference as Liz sighed.

"Well, what do you want?" she asked me. "Assuming that to stay home isn't an option."

"Damn," I cursed under my breath. "Stole my answer."

"You are impossible!"

"Okay! Okay!" I caved. "Something long. I son't want any unnecessary skin showing."

"You've got to be kidding me," Liz sighed and turned to her sister. "We've got another Kid on our hands, sis."

"I am nothing like Reaper Boy!" I jumped up, slamming my hands against the desk. Patty snickered and continued to color a giraffe while Liz merely rolled her eyes.

"You are everything like Reaper Boy. Now stay here while I go rummage through the dressing rooms," she told me as she left the room. I stuck my head out the doorway after her.

"I expect to look every bit a nineteenth-century spinster!" I called after her. Patty pulled me back into the room and slammed the door, barring any possible escape.

"You're going to need makeup," she scrutinized my face.

_Oh shit. I'm going to fucking Animorph into Katy Sanguine._

"No! I'm fine!"

"You'll look ugly, though!" she complained.

_Well thanks_.

"That's okay with me! I'm going to be that nineteenth-century spinster, remember?" I stuttered and backed against the wall. Patty had already procured the largest makeup bag I'd ever seen in my life - hell, the thing was probably bigger than most of the dresses they'd shown me - and was advancing upon me like a coyote stalking a rabbit. I gulped.

"Please, no," I squeaked and slid down the wall into a ball.

"Patty, what have you been doing to the poor girl?" Liz's voice asked accusingly.

"I just wanted to put makeup on her!"

"She looked like she wanted to rip out my throat and feed me to her young," I shivered against the wall. Liz placed a few items on my bed before stooping to help me up. Sitting me on my bed and making sure Patty was thoroughly distracted with fresh crayons, she began showing me dresses.

"I think this could work well with your skin tone," she held up something resembling the saddest piece of cotton candy I'd ever seen.

"That makes me want to vomit just looking at it," I said bluntly.

"Thank God," she laughed weakly. "If you had liked that one I probably would've cried, it's so ugly. What about this one here?"

The dress she now held was a black evening gown with not sleeves and what could only be described as a stripper neckline.

"I'm going to a ball. Not a strip-club-slash-buffet."

"Alright then, what about this?"

She went through twenty of these things. Twenty monstrosities on hangers. Each one was progressively worse, from lime and puffy to orange and saggy to purple and please-kill-me; I was expecting the mother of all things ugly to be dress number twenty-one.

"Okay, Riley. Last one," Liz sighed and revealed it. And as girly as I felt, my heart stopped.

I had been expecting pink snakeskin or something, but I was instead greeted with possibly the single most beautiful piece of clothing I'd ever seen in my life.

The gown was the epitome of elegance, hugging the torso and hips before gracefully flaring around the legs. The silver satin of the bodice gradually gave way to a cascade of silver beads which in turn faded slowly to white plumes at the hem. I was slack-jawed in awe.

"I'll take that as a yes!" Liz squealed and hurried over to me. "Now let's get you ready! There's only three hours 'til we need to leave!"

"Whoa!" I dodged her atempts to yank off my sweatshirt. I couldn't have anyone seeing my scars or scales! That would ruin everything!

"What is it?" Liz asked me.

"I..." I trailed. What I really needed to do was start covering up my exposed scars with latex, but I wasn't about to tell her that. "I need to take a nap. I'm feeling really tired."

"Alright then! We can't have you being tired for Lover Boy downstairs," Liz winked at me. I turned red.

"Love doesn't exist, Liz! Especially not between me and the asshat downstairs." She tsked at me.

"You are so unromantic."

"It's called realism. Now leave me in peace. God knows I need to prepare myself."

"Whatever, Riley," she responded. "Come on, Patty."

"'Kay, sis!"

In less than five seconds they were gone and I was alone.

_Now what?_

_Well, _you_ can go away and I'll start covering up my scars._

_Like I would ever leave you. I _am_ you._

I shuddered. The Interloper wasn't going to go away any time soon, and that foreboding feeling I had about the ball suddenly resurfaced. What if I were to blow up? Where would I go?

I grabbed my backpack and crossed to my dresser, stuffing the bag with extra clothes, sneakers, a hair clip, and my repaired skateboard. The very least I could do would be to have an escape kit. Then I glanced upon my notebook lying under my desk.

_I could at least explain this to him_.

So, before I began my latex process, I sat down to pen a letter to Kid. Just in case I couldn't come back.

Kid's POV

Two and a half hours after the screaming had died down upstairs, Liz and Patty were walking down the staircase primped and ready, Liz in something long and black and Patty in something short and yellow.

"Well?" Liz giggled and spun for me. "How is it?"

"You look beautiful as always, Elizabeth," I said politely. It was true for both of my weapons, but I was more anxious to see Riley. "Where's Riley?"

My weapons shared a quick glance and giggled before giving me a highly suggestive look.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," Liz laughed airily.

"Kiddo's got a crush!" sang Patty. For absolutely no reason, I swear, I blushed.

"That is preposterous," I denied the claim.

"Whatever you say, Kiddo!" Patty giggled again. I sighed.

"Hey, Riley!" Liz called up the stairs. "Get your butt down here! We all want to see your handiwork!"

"No!" came the muffled cry from upstairs. "I refuse to parade around in this thing like some prissy debutante!"

"There'll be really good food, Riley!"

After a moment we heard grumbling and light shuffling on the second floor. My stomach could have joined the olympic gymnastics team at this point.

Then she appeared.

All three of us downstairs fell completely silent in shock at what came down the stairs. The dress revealed her to be absolutely and incredibly beautiful, with a slim waist and curvy hips. Her arms, though covered by long sleeves, were slim and toned, and dear God her ass was perfect (not that I cared). But what really made my eyes bulge from their sockets was her face.

I had acknowledged that she was beautiful, but I had never truly grasped the full extent of that until then. Her hair, pulled back into some delicate twist, exposed her face: her cheeks had a dusting of pink across their high points, her lips were even rosier than usual, and those piercing grey eyes were rimmed with black.

All in all, she was absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Patty squealed and raced up to hug her.

"You look so pretty, Riley-chan!" she hugged her tightly. Riley immeditely stiffened, as usual, and gently extricated herself from Patty's arms to be met with Liz's face.

"Wow!" she giggled. "You're gorgeous! Why don't you show yourself off more often?"

"Thanks," Riley said slowly. "I just think this is pointless."

"Well pointless or not, you're going! Kid!"

I snapped out of my trance. I hadn't moved or said anything (mostly because I couldn't) since she had descended the staircase.

"Yes?" I responded.

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" Patty raised a suggestive eyebrow. It took everything I had to suppress the raging blush in my cheeks.

_Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe her_.

When Liz and Patty broke out into hysterical giggles and Riley turned beet red I realized I had said that aloud.

"D-Don't take that the wrong way, girls! We're just friends!" I insisted to my weapons.

"Suuure~" Patty winked.

"Come on, sis. We should give them some 'alone time.'"

"But, Liz! I wanna watch!"

Liz grabbed Patty by the arm and dragged her out the door and presumably to my car. Just as they must have planned, Riley and I were now alone, staring at the floor and laughing nervously.

"So," I said after a moment to compose myself. "Shall we?" I offered my arm. She just brushed past me grumbling something about not needing my help to walk.

"_There's_ Riley."


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Riley's POV

As ridiculous as I felt, I was there, outside the DWMA in Kid's car waiting to get out. My backpack was stashed in his trunk for a quick escape, and I was freaking out on the inside. A few people were ascending the stairs as we arrived, all excitedly eying the car of the infamous Death the Kid.

Unsurprisingly to everyone Liz and Patty emerged from the car with Kid, but a hushed murmur rose from the crowd when the shinigami walked to the back seat to open the door for a fourth passenger. I nervously stepped out of the car.

"Thanks," I muttered to Kid before starting to rush up the stairs. Then I felt a hand grab the crook of my elbow, and I flinched.

"Not so fast," Kid whispered lowly. "You don't want to trip. You'll never hear the last of it."

"From _you_."

"Fair enough, but I still don't want you to hurt yourself." So we ascended the stairs slowly, side-by-side but never touching.

Once we entered the ballroom I wanted to throw up I was so nervous. Quiet yellow classical music was being played off to the side by string quartet, nearly thirty couples were dancing in the middle of the room, and the rest were mingling on the sides. Then I saw it.

The food table.

When I finally reached it I began to pile assorted h'ors d'eouvres onto a plate, hoping to avoid Black Star as much as possible. But the moment I turned my back to several groups of minglers I began to pick out pieces of their conversations.

_"Who is that?"_

_"I think that's Riley."_

_"No way!"_

_"I hear she's living with Death the Kid now."_

_"Do you think there's something going on there?"_

_"There's something going on between those two. Look at the way he looks at her."_

It took everything I had not to turn around, but I just walked to an empty corner and began to stuff my face angrily.

"There you are," I heard a voice say. Looking over, Kid was leaning against the wall next to me.

"What do you want?"

"A non-hostile exchange might be nice," he scoffed.

"I'd agree," I nodded towards a group of particularly obnoxious minglers. Kid made a grunt of understanding and adjusted his tie. I thought he looked remarkably handsome in a simple slim black suit and tie; evidently, so did everyone else.

_"Did you see Kid tonight?"_

_"Who hasn't?"_

_"I wish he would ask me to dance!"_

_"That girl he's with - he never leaves her side! There's something going on there."_

_"She's living with him now, I've heard."_

_"Probably trying to lure him in with her body, the creep."_

By this time I was violently gripping the plate of tiny food items.

_"I can't believe he would come here with someone like her."_

_"Maybe she's really nice."_

_"Are you kidding me? She never approaches anybody!"_

_"I hear she's been attacking students in the hallways."_

_"She acttacked my meister! I saw it! Her eyes turned red."_

_"Do you think she's a monster of some kind?"_

_"Maybe."_

"Riley." I felt Kid put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched. "Ignore them," he continued lowly.

"It's a little difficult when they're calling me a _monster_," I said with tightly-clenched fists.

"You're not a monster."

"How do you know that?" I chuckled darkly. "I could be the antichrist and you wouldn't have a clue."

"Your soul is human, albeit a bit odd-looking. But it's human. _You_ are human," he tried to reassure me. I bit the inside of my cheek and looked down.

"If I go red-eyed again," I whispered, "will you look at my soul then?" After a moment of silence between us he nodded.

"As long as you promise to ignore all those idiots," he surreptitiously gestured to the crowds of minglers. I managed a small, nervous smile, but then looked back down.

"Even if I don't ignore them you're going to look at my soul. You're curious about it, so this isn't just in my own interest; you have some kind of knowledge to gain from it all."

"God, you know me so well it's scary." We both laughed at that.

_"Why do you think they live together?"_

_"I heard that her house burned down and he's letting her stay with him."_

_"Maybe I should set my apartment on fire then! Ha ha! It would be so cool to live in the Gallows, plus I'd get to spend all my time with _him_."_

_"But his obsession with symmetry would get in the way of everything!"_

_"He's actually gotten better about that lately."_

_"Maybe it had something to do with that girl. Perhaps they engage in certain methods of stress relief."_

I wished I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but people are cruel. They jump to conclusions and assume not necessarily the worst of a person but the cheapest. I suddenly felt like the dress which fit me like a glove was too tight. And then a hand on my arm.

"Come on," he told me before dragging me to the middle of the dance floor. I had set the plate down in the corner and was begging to go back to it, but Kid would have none of it; instead he used one of his hands to hold my own and the other to rest lightly on my waist. I flinched at the contact. "You needed to get away from them and we can't just stand here in the middle," he explained. I agreed, but I still had no idea what I was doing.

"Um, Reaper?" I asked a little shyly. "How do we do this?" He laughed a little but positioned my arm on his shoulder and explained to me the steps of the waltz.

"Okay," I breathed. "I think I got this."

And with that we began a clumsy dance. Kid laughed at how badly I was doing, and I laughed at myself, and soon we were laughing for absolutely no reason except we liked hearing the sound of it.

"You were right about that interpretive dance being poorly executed," he grinned wryly and referenced our conversation in the library the night my house was torched.

"Well, this isn't exactly interpretive," I said dryly. "Unless what you're interpreting has only hind legs and both of them are peg legs. If that's the case I think we've got it down."

"That was probably one of my favorite things anyone has ever said," he laughed. Our restrained laughter, no matter how frequent, did nothing to stifle the murmured gossip circulating amongst the minglers.

_"She seems really tense. But look at them together!"_

_"Maybe she seems tense because she doesn't want anyone to be suspicious."_

_"Suspicious of what, Maria?"_

_"Suspicious of their... 'intimacy.'"_

I slammed my eyes closed.

_"That has to be it. I can't believe she would do something like that!"_

_"I've heard that she's had sex with nearly every guy in Death City!"_

I ground my teeth.

_"I think that's just a rumor, but I wouldn't doubt she's a slut."_

My grip tightened on Kid's shoulder.

_"It's always the most modest ones who are the dirtiest whores."_

Those embers in my stomach started to heat up again despite every outlet of control I could find.

_Make the cello strings vibrate a bit faster! Play with the water in the fountain! Play with loose strands of hair or ruffles on dresses! Anything to tire me out! I can't lose control here._

_But it would be such fun... Hearing them scream. Making them pay for such vulgar assumptions. Doesn't revenge sound nice?_

"_Ignore them, Riley_," Kid whispered frantically as he held my hand tighter. "_Concentrate on this. Let this take up that part of your brain."_

"Shut up," I gritted my teeth. My chest felt tight and my abdomen was on fire. If I lost my concentration on controlling myself...

"No, I won't shut up," he continued. "I'm going to distract you as much as possible. Look at the stripes on my head! I'm asymmetrical and I'm not panicking about it. Isn't that great? I -"

"_Reaper_ -" was the only strained word I was able to make before I heard glass breaking. A few gasps were heard as a flute of punch exploded in someone's hands. I thought maybe that would lessen the pressure in my stomach, but it actually increased it, like exercise increases muscle mass. My control was slipping and slipping fast.

"Do you need to go to the training room?" he asked worriedly in my ear. I nodded vigorously and he began to hurry me out of the room.

The halls of the DWMA were eerily quiet at night, those green lockers Kid had pinned me against - _the pressure keeps building! It hurts!_ - gleaming in the slivers of moonlight slipping in through skinny widnows. Not that I had time to admire the scenery; I was on fire and about to explode.

"You need to get out of here, Reaper," I begged him. "I can't last!"

"I'm not leaving you! You didn't leave me in Dallas, and I'm not leaving you now. You need me."

"I need you to _leave!_ Get out while you still -" I was interrupted by a scream ripping through my throat and several screams of fright in the ballroom as the fire in the pit of my stomach partway released. The sound of glass on tile told us that the grand chandelier had crashed to the ground.

"What happened?" Kid looked frantically between me and the ballroom. "Are you okay?"

"No!" I cried. But I refused to sob. I didn't deserve to cry. He took a stride to me, but I backed away.

"Riley, what's -"

"Don't!" I screamed. "If you won't get away from me then I'll have to get away from you!"

I kicked off my heels, lifted the skirt of the dress I wore, and tore down the hallway as fast as I possibly could.

_It feels so good to be free, doesn't it?_

_This isn't freedom!_

_But of course it is!_

_I'm trapped in a cage made by you._

"Riley!" Kid chased after me. "Riley, get back here!"

"Don't you get that I can't!?"

"Ril-" He was cut short as he tripped over a barrier I placed at his ankles. I finally broke through the swinging doors of the grand entrance and raced to Kid's car, flinging open the trunk before I could even make out the license plate number.

_What are you doing!? He's down! End him! Then he won't come after you!_

_That contradicts everything I stand for, you dick! And you know it!_

_I'm just telling you what you want._

_I DON'T WANT TO BE A MONSTER! I CAN'T KILL ANYONE ELSE, BUT ESPECIALLY NOT HIM! I CAN'T HURT HIM!_

Kid's POV

"Riley!" I called out the front doors. One was torn completely from its hinges and the other sported a crack all the way along the glass, evidence of Riley's strength. I ran down the stairs and tried to feel for her soul, but I couldn't find it! I couldn't find it anywhere!

I had raced around the corner to the bush where she used to hide her skateboard. But rather than a skateboard, tonight it sported a silver dress with white plumes along the bottom.

"_RILEY!_" I half-sobbed-half-screamed into the darkness. I listened for the sound of a reply, a trip, the whirr of skateboard wheels - anything that might tell me where she was and why she didn't have that dress on!

_She had her backpack in the trunk..._

I sank to my knees and just cried. She was gone and didn't want to be found.

Just as I found someone worth fixing myself for she disappeared like smoke running through my shaking fingers.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Dear Reaper Boy,

If you're finding this, it probably means I've left. If not, get the hell out of this room.

I just wanted you to know that it's not your fault I had to leave. My panic attacks are getting worse, I've started to attack people, and I'm just losing control of myself in general. You're always telling me how fear makes me human, but I'm starting to think that I might not even be human. That's why I had to leave – to keep my instincts from coming out and hurting people. It's really not your fault.

The most important part of this letter is this: thank you. Thank you for being my friend.

You were always there, whether I liked it or not, to tell me what I needed to hear. You were stubborn, ridiculous, and witty, and you pushed me to my limits every day; but I loved every minute. I found someone who understood insanity, who took an interest in me, who actually cared whether I lived or died, who waited for me to get out of the bathroom after I had those muscle spasms at the Gallows and after I threw up at school. I hadn't had a friend in eight years, and I had never had one like you. The month I spent with you was the best month I've ever had in my life, and even though it hurts so much to leave, I wouldn't trade that month for anything. I wouldn't even trade that month to save my own life. Even if we did fight all the time, I still consider you my best friend.

Above all... if you're sad about this at all, please keep living. Don't ever give up on your life and don't ever think of yourself as asymmetrical garbage. You are anything but garbage - you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Don't let it inflate your ego too much, but it's true.

Don't come looking for me. I don't want to be found. It's safer for everyone if I drop off the face of the planet and live as a recluse. Only come to look for me if you plan to kill me - that would be the absolute safest thing for everyone and for you.

Carry on,

_Riley_

P.S. : Tell Liz and Patty they did a great job on my dress.

P.P.S. : Tell your fangirls to go fuck themselves. They annoy the shit out of me.


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Riley's POV

I had abandoned Kid. I had abandoned the DWMA. I had abandoned the project. I had abandoned everything I had come to know and hold dear because it was the best thing for them. I was destructive. But the best thing for my band wasn't the same thing; I couldn't abandon the Tenth Yard.

I stood backstage with my guitar slung over my back. The act now onstage was a pop band whose cover of "This Is Halloween" made me want to vomit. But I wanted to vomit for other reasons as well - we were all nervous as hell.

"_Tenth Yard?_" a techie whisper-yelled. "_You're on in two."_

"_Holy crap_," I heard Tyler whisper beside me. "_This is happening_."

"_We've gotta keep our guards up_," I reminded everybody. "_Those girls from Tyler's school might still try to sabotage our performance."_

"_Even without Heather in the band?_" Stanley asked. I nodded.

"_People are cruel. They don't need reasons to inflict pain_."

"_Well, aren't you a bag of sunshine and rainbows?_" Tyler scoffed. "_What about 'break a leg' or 'we'll do great?'_"

"_Because I don't believe in luck and I can't guarantee any success," _I explained to him.

"_Tenth Yard in one!_" the techie updated us. We all nodded his direction and fell silent. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

What I wouldn't have given to be able to go back to the Gallows after this was over. But I couldn't go back; I would only lose control again, probably even more violently than before. Part of me wanted nothing more than to disappear into the wilderness and live as a recluse. But a more selfish part of me craved the Gallows. It craved companionship.

It craved Kid.

"_Tenth Yard, you're up!_" the techie whisper-yelled a final time. My bandmates and I shared a glance before walking out onto the darkened stage to take our places.

If I had anything to say about it, we were going out on one hell of a show.

Kid's POV

I had cried myself to sleep Thurday night. I couldn't comprehend _why_ I missed her so much, why I felt like a part of me was getting ripped out of me every time I saw her room - her _former_ room - but it hurt. Friday night, Halloween, was a holiday for students of the DWMA, giving me a full eight hours longer to sleep and grieve before Liz and Patty started to thrash around in their room getting ready for the concert.

I turned onto my stomach and groaned.

_The concert_.

The girls had kept their end of the bargain, only playing my music in the house and in the car, so I had no reason to back out of my end; although, I was considering faking a stomach virus to stay home for more moping time.

But, when seven o'clock came around (that horrible number), the girls knocked on my room door and dragged me to my car.

"Come on, Kid," Liz whined. "You need to get out! Forget about her for an evening!" I groaned again and slithered into the back seat.

Needless to say, Liz drove.

When we finally got into the auditorium, it was packed, the act before the Tenth Yard just finishing its set and a crowd of sweating, gyrating bodies constituting the audience. My weapons immediately squealed and dragged me into the middle of the mess, hoping, presumably, to distract me with the asymmetry; somehow, it didn't work.

On the final note of a horrible rendition of "This Is Halloween," the room and the stage descended into complete and utter darkness. With my shinigami eyesight I could just perceive shadowy silhouettes moving across the stage and taking their places.

Then the lights flashed up to reveal the bassist. Immediately a heavy electric bass began to thrum and the darkened band members rhythmically stomped and clapped. As an electric guitar was added into the song, a heavy spotlight was placed over the guitarist; I was surprised to find that it was a man, not Katy Sanguine. Next, the drummer began to play and the lights came up on him.

Then _she_ was there.

There, on the stage, front and center, stood Katy Sanguine with a guitar slung over her back and a microphone in front of her mouth. And when she opened her mouth to sing -

_Jimmy's in the back_

_With a pocket of high_

_If you listen close_

_You can hear him cry._

_Oh, Lord_

_Heaven knows_

_We belong_

_Way down below._

Whenever I thought of the perfect singing voice, I imagined a high, clean, clear voice - angelic. But this... this music was nothing like that. But her voice was the single most incredible sound I had ever heard in my life; a little low, a little raspy, but still clearer than day. It was far from angelic - it had dark and menacing undertones, but it was still incredible.

Hell, it was perfect.

_Judy's in the front seat_

_Picking up trash._

_Living on the dough_

_Gotta make that cash._

_Won't be pretty._

_Won't be sweet._

_She's just sitting there_

_On her feet_

_Sing it_

_Oh Lord_

_Heaven knows_

_We belong_

_Way down below_

_Way down below_

_Go_

_Oh Lord_

_Tell us so_

_We belong_

_Way down below._

_Oh Lord_

_Heaven knows_

_We belong_

_Way down below_

_Way down below_

_Way down below_

_Way down below._

Katy's grey eyes (or at least the one visible from underneath her messy brown hair) nervously scanned the audience, and then she violently twisted her arms to grab her guitar and yank it to the front of her body. Her fingers trailed up and down the frets hypnotically, adding a new layer of reverberations into the music.

_And I've had better days, man._

_I've seen better days._

_And I've had better ways, man._

_I know better ways._

_One, two_

_Three, and four._

_The Devil's knocking_

_At your door._

_Caught in the eye_

_Of a dead man's lie._

_Showed you life_

_With your head held high._

_Now you're on your knees_

_With your head hung low._

_Big man tells you_

_Where to go._

_Tell 'em it's good._

_Tell 'em okay._

_But don't do a goddamn thing they say!_

_Oh Lord_

_Heaven knows_

_We belong_

_Way down below._

_Oh Lord_

_Tell us so_

_We belong_

_Way down below._

_And I've had better ways, man._

_I know better ways._

_And I've had better days, man._

_I've seen better days._

Those piercing grey eyed scanned the crowd again, this time, landing on my face. She let out a faintly audible intake of breath, then held her hands back to silence the drums and other guitar. Then, shakily, she grabbed the microphone and sang again.

_Oh, Riley's onstage_

_Trying to hide two sides._

_If you listen close_

_You can hear her cry._

At the sound of her name, my gaze was glued to the girl onstage. That couldn't be... No, it couldn't be.

_And Reaper's in the crowd_

_Looking at two sides._

_If you listen close_

_You can hear him scream _RILEY!

No... It couldn't be...

_Oh Lord_

_Heaven knows_

_We belong_

_Way down below_

_Oh Lord_

_Tell us so_

_We belong_

_Way down below_

_Oh Lord_

_Heaven knows_

_We belong_

_Way down below_

_Oh Lord_

_Tell us so_

_We belong_

_Way down below_

_Way down below_

_Way down below_

_Way down below_

_Way down below._

It ended on one harsh downbeat, then silence before the crowd roared in approval. I stood in the middle of it all staring glassy-eyed at Katy... _Riley?_ The mystery girl suddenly grabbed the mic and began to speak into it.

"How are you doin', Death City!?" she asked. The crowd roared again as if noncommittal screams could be interpreted as a "well" or "badly." "I couldn't quite hear you!" This time she extended the microphone out to the crowd. It screamed even louder. She laughed and pulled the mic back to her lips. "I'm assuming you all know who we are, judging from the huge sign on the jumbo-tron up there. We are... _The Tenth Yard!_"

Either this band was incredibly popular in Death City or everyone there was completely stoned, because there was a deafening wall of sound that arced up from the crowd.

"We have Kyle Stoddard, our bassist," she pointed to each band member in turn. "We have Stanley Carmichael, newly promoted to lead guitarist. We have Tyler Jameson, our drummer. And then there's me. Katy Sanguine, your rhythmic guitarist and, now, lead singer. Unfortunately, our former singer had to leave us to take care of her sister. But we're still rocking and rolling!" The audience cheered wildly, and she found my eyes again. "And, I know I didn't run this by you, guys, but do you think I could dedicate this set to somebody?"

The entire crowd oohed with the maturity of a seven year old. There were even a few wolf whistles. The band members, on the other hand, gave her an encouraging smile which she reflectec stunningly in her own features before turning back to the audience.

"So, I would like to dedicate this set to... someone very special to me. They never gave up on me, no matter how much I told them I was a lost cause. And they were an absolute ridiculous person who I was _priviledged_ to come to know. So, without further ado... Let's go!"

The set restarted with a crash.

_I can't remember a time_

_That I tried to forget_

_Lost myself_

_Yet I'm better, not sad._

_Now I'm closer to the edge._

_It was a thousand to one_

_And a million to two_

_Time to go down in flames_

_And I'm taking you_

_Closer to the edge._

_Now I'm not saying_

_I'm sorry!_

_One day_

_Maybe we'll meet again._

_No I'm not saying_

_I'm sorry!_

_One day_

_Maybe we'll meet again!_

_No! No! No! No!_

_Can you imagine a time_

_When the truth ran free?_

_The birth of a song_

_The death of a dream._

_Now I'm closer to the edge._

_This never-ending story,_

_paid for with pride and fate._

_We all fall short of glory,_

_Lost in ourselves!_

_No I'm not saying_

_I'm sorry!_

_One day_

_Maybe we'll meet again!_

_No I'm not saying_

_I'm sorry!_

_One day_

_Maybe we'll meet again!_

_No! No! No! No!_

_I will never forget!_

_No! No!_

_I will never regret!_

_No! No!_

_I will live my life!_

_No! No! No! No!_

_I will never forget!_

_No! No!_

_I will never regret!_

_No! No!_

_I will live my life!_

_No I'm not saying_

_I'm sorry!_

_One day_

_Maybe we'll meet again._

_No I'm not saying_

_I'm sorry!_

_One day_

_Maybe we'll meet again!_

_No! No! No! No!_

_Closer to the edge!_

_Closer to the edge!_

_Closer to the edge!_

_Closer to... the edge._

I felt like she was reaching out to me, but her soul was so shaky that I couldn't be sure if it was her or not. But if it _was_ her...

Was this a goodbye note?

After a few more songs, she grabbed the mic and spoke again.

"Well," she sighed, "this is our last song." The crowd booed. "I know, I know, I don't really want to leave, either. But... this song is my personal favorite. I wrote it for someone who is very special to me - don't laugh like that - and... he's here tonight. And if he doesn't know who he is by now then he's the biggest idiot on the planet."

The crowd laughed, but my heart leapt into my throat.

This had to be her.

_Now I know_

_That you can't make me stay_

_But where's your heart?_

_But where's your heart?_

_But where's your-_

_And I know!_

_There's nothing you can say_

_To change that part._

_To change that part._

_To change!_

She took over her role as lead guitarist for a moment, fingers flying over the neck of her guitar like she was born holding it.

_So many_

_Bright lights they cast a shadow._

_But can I speak?_

_Is it hard understanding_

_I'm incomplete?_

_A life that's so demanding_

_I get so weak._

_A love that's so demanding_

_I can't speak!_

She paused momentarily, eyes finding mine and nearly tearing up. Then her voice crashed back out.

_I am not afraid to keep on living!_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone!_

_Honey, if I stay I won't be forgiven._

_Nothing you can say can get me to come back home!_

It was her. There was no way it was her, but it was her. I had to be hallucinating, or making everything up, or dreaming because I wanted - no, _needed_ - to see her again so badly, but it just... it felt right.

It was Riley.

_Can you see?_

_My eyes are shining bright_

_'Cause I'm out here_

_On the other side_

_Of a jet-black hotel mirror._

_And I'm so weak._

_Is it hard understanding_

_I'm incomplete?_

_A love that's so demanding_

_I get weak!_

_I am not afraid to keep on living!_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone!_

_Honey if I stay I won't be forgiven._

_Nothing you can say can get me to come back home._

_I am not afraid to keep on living!_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone!_

_Honey if I stay I won't be forgiven._

_Nothing you can say can get me to come back home._

_These bright lights have always blinded me!_

_These bright lights have always blinded me!_

The music suddenly slowed and subdued, leaving only her playing in the middle of the stage.

_Wish I'd seen him lying next to me_

_With words I thought I'd never speak._

_Awake and unafraid._

_Asleep or dead?_

_Wish I'd seen him lying next to me_

_With words I thought I'd never speak._

_Awake and unafraid._

Her head whipped across the crowd, searching, that gorgeous brown hair flowing behind her. Then her eyes locked on to mine and hardened determinidely.

_Asleep or dead!?_

_Wish I'd seen you lying next to me_

_With words I thought I'd never speak!_

_Awake and unafraid!_

_Asleep or dead!?_

_I am not afraid to keep on living!_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone!_

_Honey if I stay I won't be forgiven!_

_Nothing you can say can get me to come back home!_

_I am not afraid to keep on living!_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone!_

_Honey if I stay I won't be forgiven!_

_Nothing you can say can get me to come back home!_

_I am not afraid to keep on livin!_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone!_

_Honey if I stay I won't be forgiven!_

_Nothing you can say can get me to come back home!_

She brought her hand to the strings of her guitar and stopped the noise, turning back to her bandmates and whispering something in the bassist's ear. He nodded and went back to his position on the side of the stage.

"Alright!" Katy – Riley – yelled. "It's time for our last song of the night." The crowd booed and she laughed. "But we've got a lot more acts coming up, so we've gotta make room. Now, this last song, I've got to say, is my favorite that we do, mostly because it describes how I fell in this moment right now. To that certain person in the audience – you've _got _to know who you are by now-" the crowd laughed lightly. "I may not be there, I'll always come running if you need me." I wanted to cry.

_I can see you running, running_

_Every night from the same darkness_

_It's coming, coming_

_But you are not alone._

_If you just say the word_

_I'll be there by your side._

_You make me more._

_You make me superhuman._

_And if you need me to,_

_I will save you!_

The lights went crazy. They flashed and strobed and roved over each member of the Tenth Yard, always moving.

_Send out the signal and I'll fly low!_

_If it means the death of me_

_I won't let go!_

_And if I'm lost in the world's shadows_

_I'll use the light that comes to me_

_From your halo!_

_When you're backed against a wall_

_I could be the one who's always there to break your fall_

_You are not alone._

_You're the sun_

_You're the day_

_The light that guides me through_

_Never run, run away_

_I will save you!_

_Send out the signal and I'll fly low!_

_If it means the death of me_

_I won't let go!_

_And if I'm lost in the world's shadows_

_I'll use the light that comes to me_

_From your halo!_

_Send out the signal and I'll fly low!_

_If it means the death of me_

_I won't let go!_

_And if I'm lost in the world's shadows_

_I'll use the light that comes to me_

_From your halo!_

Then the stage went black and the crowd went wild. Without any warning I began to elbow my way through the audience, leaving my screaming weapons behind. None of them mattered. They could take care of themselves, and I knew how to find them. If I didn't get to Riley right then I would never see her again, and that wasn't something I could live with.

I got a lot of weird looks, but I kept running, running, running through the endless walls of people until I reached the edge of the stage where an exit sign glowed redly. I pushed through the door and was greeted by chilly night air and a dark sky. She had to be out there! She had to be!

"Riley?" I whispered hoarsely. "Katy?"

Something shifted behind me. I whirled to face it.

"Well, hello there."

She was right there. _Right there_.

"Riley?" All I got in response was a very confused look.

"Sorry. My name is Katy. I'm with the band that just played in there. I'm headed home now."

"No, no, no..." I stuttered dumbly. "You-you have to be Riley. There's no other explanation!"

"Listen, dude, do you have some meds that you haven't been taking or something?"

"No! I just- ugh," I covered my face with my hands. "Would you mind if I checked your soul?"

"What?"

"I... I just need to know for sure that you're not who I think you might be. Just this once and I'll leave you alone." She sighed but nodded her head in agreement. I closed my eyes and concentrated on her wavelength.

It was terrifying.

I had never sensed so much fear in a person, so much trepidation. And there was some weird undercurrent in the wavelength that was distinctly _not _Riley. I snapped out of the resonance and shook my head.

"I'm really sorry, Katy," I apologized. "I guess I was just wishing a bit too hard." I swore I saw her flinch.

"Wishing for what?"

"Well," I laughed sadly, "there was this girl who was living with me-"

"_Here we go_," Katy laughed.

"-she ran away, and... I'm only just starting to realize that I didn't hate her." She scoffed.

"How uplifting."

"I am trying to tell a heartwrenching tale and you just keep turning it into garbage!" I laughed half-heartedly. She laughed along in much the same way. We stood in an awkward silence. "You were really good back there," I said dumbly.

"Thanks," she said. "That was the first time I'd sang with them."

"You're kidding! You were a natural!" The one visible cheek flushed pink.

"Thanks again," she embarrassedly laughed. "The lead singer had to quit, so they made me take over."

"Well, it must have been fate, then. I don't think that performance could have gone any better." She blushed again, fidgeting with the strap on her backpack and shifting her grip on her guitar case.

"I..." she began halfheartedly, "I gotta get going."

"Oh. Sorry. For keeping you," I added.

"It's fine. I..." she sighed, "I really needed this conversation." Then she turned her head away from me. "It makes me feel a bit better about what I'm about to do." I felt my eyebrows squeeze together.

"What are you about to do?" I asked. She responded with a sad chuckle.

"Disappear," she said with bitter acidity. "I might see you around. I hope I do."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Me too. You kind of remind me of the girl I mistook you for." She nodded solemnly.

"Well, carry on, wayward son," she sighed. I laughed.

"Let there be peace when you are done," I replied. Those were our goodbyes.

She walked quickly away and bent her head down, one fist clenching and unclenching spasmodically. Suddenly, she stopped and wheeled around.

"So... you really miss her?" she asked quietly. I nodded.

"With everything I am." She nodded curtly and turned to leave again, but stopped dead in her tracks.

"What do you want?" she asked someone on the other end of the alleyway.

"Oh, nothing," giggled a voice.

"What's going on?" I quickly strode over to stand beside the musician. She hushed me.

"Get out of here."

"I'm Lord Death's son. I can handle myself fairly well, I'd like to think."

"My friends and I were just here to enjoy a concert when some people asked us if we knew of someone named Leah Roland. So, naturally we told them where you were!" giggled another voice. I now saw that the voices belonged to three teenage girls who leaned against the brick buildings. Katy stiffened markedly.

That name again...

"I don't know of anybody by that name," she said fiercely.

"Are you sure, Leah?"

That voice was very distinctly male. And very distinctly behind us.

Katy immediately swung her leg up to kick the man in the face, hitting him squarely in the jaw and knocking him to the ground. I looked at her in shock. She was tiny!

"Where are the rest of you?" she demanded darkly.

"Oh, we're everywhere!" someone snarled. Suddenly we were completely surrounded by large, burly men, but Katy seemed unfazed. Without looking away from our captors, she spoke lowly.

"How fast can you run?"

"What?"

"I asked you how fast you can run," she repeated.

"I've been training since I could toddle. I'm pretty fast."

"When I tell you to run, you run," she whispered tensely. "Got it?"

"That training included martial arts. And I'm Lord Death's son. I can take care of this."

"_Tell that to the bullet holes in your shoulders,_" she grumbled.

"What?"

"Just run," she commanded. "This is something you don't want to see. And you don't have your weapons."

"Are you two love birds finished talkin'?" one of the big men mocked in a southern drawl. "'Cause my friends 'n I'd really like to get started pretty soon here."

"You and your _friends_ are in for a surprise," I growled. He laughed.

"Well, so are you."

At that exact moment at least fifty more people came out of the shadows. How had I not thought to check for other souls around!?

Katy gulped audibly.

"_Fuck_," she swore under her breath. She wasn't the only one freaking out. I had never thought I would be ambushed by this many humans at once, and I had never thought I would be weaponless! The big man chuckled again.

"Let's get this show on the road, Leah," he growled and threw his hand forward. All at once, everyone who had been circling us attacked, leaving Katy and I with only one option.

"Hold on," I said and summoned Beelzebub. I cringed when I remembered that it would hurt Riley, but I would rather she hurt that both Katy and I die. Katy swore again and held her head, and I swore for a moment she sounded just like-

"I'm not getting on that thing!" she shouted above the grunts of the running men.

"We don't have a choice!"

"_You _don't have a choice!" she said and punched a guy in the face. I heard his jaw crack and he slumped down, unconscious. "Run! Now!"

I was a shinigami. I had not been raised to be a coward.

So, of course, I started generating a ball of my soul wavelength.

"Dude!" she screamed at me. "Run!"

"No way am I leaving you here to die!"

"They don't want me dead!"

She jumped and kicked both her feet out to slam to guys in the face, then landed on another's back and planted her elbow at the base of his neck.

Where the hell had a girl like her learned to fight like... _Riley?_

All of a sudden, a hand shot out and slapped her across the face. She retaliated by yanking on his hand to dislocate his shoulder and kicking him in the face. When she whirled around in a flurry of hair I saw something flaking off of her left jawline, right where Riley's - I had to stop! Fight, dammit!

I swung my leg up, knocking several guys down in the process. Someone pulled a gun from their belt, but I easily disarmed them by pushing their arm in another direction and kicking up. A snap, and the gun was in my hands. Six pops, and six men lay dead on the ground.

God, I hated being death.

In the end, there were just too many of them; both Katy and I knew that.

"Just run, man!" she commanded. I shook my head madly. "You're an idiot!"

"You're not the first person to call me that!" I grunted while elbowing someone in the stomach.

"And if I have anything to do with it, I won't be the last! So run!"

"I left her behind! I can't do that to you, too!"

"She left, you moron!" She stole a guy's pistol and shot him twice before throwing it at someone's head.

"But, I can't-"

"REAPER!"

I whipped around. Katy stood panting in the middle of a huge ring of dead men, but even more were circling her. She suddenly reached into her back pocket and retrieved a clip, deftly spinning her hair up into it. The, she reached up to the thing flaking off of her left jawline and pulled, revealing a long scar.

_Riley?_

"RUN, YOU MORON!"

I hadn't meant to, but I had lost all capability of movement. I stood completely frozen still, the only things properly functioning being my tear ducts.

And suddenly a pair of arms hooked under my own and began to drag me away. I tried to stamp on their foot, but I was still in shock. I weakly tapped my foot against that of my captor, but he only laughed at the effort.

"What's the matter, pretty boy?" the man laughed in my ear. He suddenly called out to his remaining men. "Hey fellas! Looks like we got ourselves some leverage here!" They all made sounds of mocking or laughter; my stomach churned. Moving out of the way, I was awarded a view of a wide-eyed Riley being held back by a burly man. She squirmed weakly in his arms, but he held his ground.

"What do you want with him?" she asked breathlessly. "Let him go!"

"This is a little somethin' I like to call 'leverage,'" he said lightly. "You hand yourself over and go home, your little boyfriend here goes free. Not a scratch on him." Goddammit, now was not the time to feel weird about the word "boyfriend!"

"And if I don't?"

"Well, then," he said. I suddenly felt something cold and sharp pressed against my neck. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

"He's a shinigami. Only kishins can kill him." The knife trailed from my neck and down to my arms.

"He can still hurt," he laughed. Riley snarled viciously.

"_You wouldn't dare_," she threatened. The point of the knife penetrated my suit coat. "Don't make me do this."

"Ha! What can you do? You're just a little girl held back by a big man. And I'm the man with all the power here! I've got the knife!"

"And I've got the bloodlust," she growled. Suddenly, the arms unhooked themselves from my shoulders and a huge crash came from the wall behind me. Whirling around I saw the man who had held me captive halfway through a wall.

_What?_

Riley was on them like a rabid dog, throwing punches, landing powerful kicks, _dodging bullets_ and _deflecting_ them. She was an absolute killing machine.

And her eyes were still grey.

Then she stopped and clutched her chest. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and the look on her face was of pure terror. Her stomach spasmed and she doubled over as several men went flying backwards.

"RUN!" she screamed again. "IF YOU WANT TO LIVE THROUGH THIS JUST GET ON BEELZEBUB AND FLY!"

I spun someone's head completely around on their neck and dropped him to the concrete.

"NO WAY!" I yelled back. "ONLY KISHINS CAN KILL SHINIGAMIS!"

"AND-" she started. "JUST STOP BEING A GODDAMNED IDIOT AND TRUST ME!"

I had never believed Riley had trusted anybody. She always kept her door locked, never let any skin show, never touched anyone, never let anyone see anything she was doing or reading, never let anyone get too close to her, physically or otherwise. But... she had tried to trust me. We had laughed together, kicked ass together, and for God's sake she had saved my life on several occasions. She had even let me touch her when we danced the previous night. And, as strange as it was, I trusted her more than I trusted anyone else on the face of the planet. And if she was telling me to run, I would be stupid not to.

So I nodded and mounted Beelzebub before taking to the sky; her gaze followed my ascent the entire way. Once she was satisfied I was high enough up, she stood shakily in the middle of the ring of men. Then, clenching her fists and squinting her eyes, she raised her hands, then sharply flung them back down.

Everything collapsed.

Wind whipped wildly against her hair as it carried broken bricks in a whirling wave over the scene, then dropping on the heads of her attackers. Then, once her eyes opened, their blood-red glow was visible even at my altitude.

She let out a warrior's yell and sent out a huge pulse into the air, rippling the ground, the people, the buildings as if they were water. The attackers were flung into the air like a child's toys, almost completely limp. Riley brought her hands forcefully back to the ground and slammed her palms against the concrete, forcing the men to hit the ground. _Hard_. Then, curling into a ball and shaking with effort, fiery ropes lashed out from her and attacked the men who lay on the ground. I could hear several garbled screams, but they soon died along with their hosts. Once the last groan had subsided, Riley whirled around to extinguish the flames and brought her fists back to the ground, pulverizing the charred bodies into nothing but ash. A gale-force wind then whipped through the courtyard to sweep the ash out.

I zoomed back to the ground, in complete shock.

_What... What the hell just happened?_

Riley stood, shaking and panting, pressing her hands against her eyes. Then she looked my way and managed to smile weakly.

"_Hey, Reaper Boy_," she croaked before she collapsed to the ground.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

Kid's POV

I didn't even hesitate to run to her as she fell. Catching her before she hit the ground, I slowly eased her to the floor before examining her. I was still sobbing like a child.

"Dear God, Riley," I whispered hoarsely.

She had sweated most of the heavy stage makeup from her face, what little that still remained streaking down her cheeks. Her shirt was ripped under the arm, her hair was singed at the ends, and her thigh was bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound. All in all, she looked terrible.

I grabbed her and held her protectively to my chest for a moment, just relishing in the knowledge that she was safe. She may have been bleeding out, but she was still safe in my arms.

It was then that I realized just how tiny she was.

I was back at the Gallows before I could blink, riding Beelzebub up the stairs and depositing Riley in the tub of the closest bathroom. The white porcelain of the tub was immediately stained red with asymmetrical splashes of blood. I turned away and grabbed some rubbing alcohol and a pair of tweezers. I would not let asymmetry get in the way of this.

After removing the bullet - just like the ones found in my shoulders, this had been an armor-piercing round - from her leg I ran some warm water over the wounded area. Riley turned her head and winced, making a slight hissing noise from the sting.

"Riley!" I said. "Are you okay?" Great question. Like there was any question as to whether or not she was okay.

"Let me go," she murmured groggily.

"There is no way I'm letting you leave like this."

She said something that sounded like "dangerous" and let her chest fall.

"Don't you dare leave me!" I yelled at her. "We need you here!" I began to choke on my words again. "I need you here."

She opened her eyes at that, reaching a shaky hand out to cup my cheek.

"No you don't," she whispered. Then her eyes closed and her hand went limp. I caught it before it hit the tub and held it in my own hands for a moment, just staring at her. She was the single most incredible thing I had ever encountered, even lying in my bathtub in a pool of her own blood. But that part had to change.

Now came the awkward part. I slowly and carefully peeled off her jeans to further examine the wound, and my heart stopped.

Her legs were perfectly toned, but what made my blood run cold was the sheer multitude of scars littering the skin of them, interweaving to the point of looking more like a burn than a scar. I cried harder. I wanted to kill whoever had done this to her.

Getting over the awkwardness completely, I cleaned and dressed the wound and slipped a pair of Liz's sweatpants over her legs, then carried her to her room. I laid her down on her bed and tucked her into the sheets.

In the end I stayed and just watched her for about half an hour, studying the little hitches in her breathing, the relaxed expression on her face. She looked so peaceful, and I was overcome with a great sense of warmth at the sight.

She was safe. She was home.

I went to take a shower, staying in long enough to stop crying, then went to my room to call Liz and Patty.

"Kid!" Liz shrieked when she picked up the phone. I held my phone away from my ear to guard against a burst eardrum. "Where have you been! Patty and I have been worried sick about you! You could have died!"

"I almost did die," I admitted lowly.

"What!?"

I told her everything. Everything about Katy Sanguine and Riley, about fighting the fifty men, and about carrying her home and cleaning her up. The only detail I might have let slip was the telekinesis bit. Oops.

"Wow. That's... wow," said Liz.

"I know," I said, runnig a hand through my hair. I was probably horribly asymmetrical, but I couldn't quite bring myself to care. "She's not doing too well. I mean, she's healing fine, I just don't think she's going to want to be around people for a while."

"Do you want Patty and me to find a place to stay for the weekend?"

"Could you?"

"Absolutely. Anything to help out some friends."

"Are you sure? The house is big enough that you could avoid her-"

"Kid," she laughed. "It's fine. Maka owes me a favor, anyway."

"Thank you," I sighed.

"It's alright, Kid. Just get her better. And be sure to use protection."

"Wh- It's not like that!" I spluttered while Liz laughed on the other end of the line.

"I'm just kidding. Get some sleep." She hung up.

I trudged back to Riley's room on sleep-heavy legs, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. Then I heard a low whine coming from the other side of her door. I raced down the rest of the hall and flung open the door to see her sprawled across her bed and panting wildly, head tossing from side to side. She whined again, as if in pain, and then let out a blood-curdling scream that must have been audible in the other wing of the house.

I rushed to her side and shook her.

"Riley!" I yelled. "Riley, wake up!"

Her eyes flew open and her panting deepened to the point of hyperventilation. Collapsing over and into my arms, I held her into my chest until she quieted. When she finished I heard a sniff.

And felt her begin to shake as little pinpricks of water seeped through my shirt.

Riley was... crying?

All he fights we'd been in, all the insults hurled, and all the violent threats made had cast her as the toughest person I knew; I never thought I would see her cry, much less freely and openly into my arms as she did now. She did absolutely nothing to hold in the sobs. In fact, she held onto me with almost the same force as I held her.

"You idiot," she murmured through her tears.

"What did I do now?"

"You fucking died!" she sobbed and gripped my shirt tighter.

"I'm right here," I murmured into her hair.

"You better be."

We just stayed like that for a while, me holding her and inhaling her scent while she cried her heart out. I had a feeling that her tears weren't solely from the dream, but an accumulation of heartaches she had gathered for a long time.

When her sobs started to die down, they suddenly took a turn for the worse as she started hyperventilating.

"Riley," I said. "Just stay calm. I'm right here."

"I need to go outside," she said in a hoarse, strained whisper.

"Are you about to-"

"Blow up? Yes." She tried to stand up, but her legs gave out from under her, a sign of her exhaustion. "Oh God."

"Here." I scooped her into my arms and started running down the halls.

When I finally reached the back door I held my hand over the metal.

"Where do want to go?" I asked. Instead of answering me, she kept her head buried in my shoulder and placed her hand on the door. "Riley, only shinigamis can-"

The door clicked open.

"Oh."

She nodded into my shoulder and cried.

"It's okay," I murmured into her hair as I pushed open the door.

The landscape was beautiful. A huge grassy meadow stretched out before me, swaths of tall pine forests outlining the knoll. A cool night wind rushed down from the night sky and wove in between the fronds of grass, creating a rippling motion and a rushing sound, both of which reminded me of the ocean. Down the hill and to the left was a small pond that reflected the stars and the outcropping of trees surrounding it in its surface. On the pond's bank and in front of a secondary outcropping of pines was a small fire and a tent.

"This is beautiful, Riley," I whispered. She had seemed to calm down significantly upon seeing the place, her breathe coming in even and deep breaths. "What is this place to you?"

She looked up at me with weary eyes, then back at the grass swaying and rustling in the wind.

"Home."


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

Kid's POV

"Home."

We now sat by the fire on the bank of the pond, Riley's head resting all too comfortably on my shoulder. She still let out an occasional sob or sniff, but she mostly just looked unseeingly out at the surface of the water. I hesitated to call it "unseeingly"; it was more like she was seeing beyond the water and staring directly at something too profound for me to grasp. I, however, was not looking at the pond. My eyes were turned at Riley.

"So, this is where you grew up?" I asked quietly, breaking through the sound of cricket chirps that took up most of the night. She nodded on my shoulder and sighed.

"This is how I remember it," she said, bringing a hand up to wipe away a few tears that had leaked from her eyes. I grabbed her wrist before she could do it. "What are you-"

I turned towards her and ran my thumbs under her eyes, gently swiping the droplets of salty water from her face.

We were both completely silent, the only sounds being the rustling of the grass in the wind, the chirping of the crickets, and our own breathing as we just stared at each other. I eventually felt my cheeks heat up, so I turned around and looked back at the pond.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"No problem."

We slipped back into silence for a moment before I asked it. The question.

"Riley, where did you get those scars?" She automatically stiffened, then relaxed and dropped her head.

"I guess it's time to tell you, isn't it?" she whispered.

"I think so." She sighed and didn't look up as she began her story.

"I was really little when my parents got divorced," she began. "My dad left. My mom kicked him out for being a deadbeat druggie. He didn't care about my mom or my sister, and he could hardly stand me. But a couple years later he showed back up at our doorstep, clean-shaven, close-cut hair, just... cleaned up. He didn't smell like weed or alcohol, either. He said he knew that the marriage was over, but he wanted a second chance with his kids."

"And that was a bad idea?" She nodded.

"He eventually gained our trust, and even my mom's trust. One day he said he wanted to take us out for ice cream by himself, and my mom trusted him enough to let him. But instead of taking us for ice cream," she swallowed, "he took us to a the basement of a church and sold us for drug money." I instantly recoiled.

"You were in the Heart of Mary," I whispered, shocked. She nodded again.

"I was a child prostitute," she laughed without humor, "in the basement of a church. Most of my 'customers' were pretty fucking sadistic. That's where the scars came from." She traced one of the scars on her neck. "I was there for two years before-" She immediately stopped herself. I placed my hand on her shoulder in a weak attempt to show her some kind of comfort.

"Before what?" She swallowed again.

"Before," she took a deep breath, "before I broke out."

I paused.

"Was that the Heart of Mary explosion?" I asked in slight awe. Every question I had had was getting answered.

"It was an accident," she choked. When she turned to me I saw that she was trying not to cry. "I've killed so many people, Kid."

"Don't start this," I told her. "You are a good person. It doesn't matter how many people you've had to kill. It was a matter of survival."

"How can you say I'm a good person? I've killed people! I've lied! I've lied to everyone. I've lied to you."

"It doesn't matter. What matters," I placed my hand on her heart and found it to be thumping madly, "is in here."

"I've lied about my name, my home, my family, my past, my-"

"I don't care!" I yelled. She had to know! I didn't know what I was trying to say, but this burning in my chest woudn't stop until I said it. "It doesn't matter to me if you're Leah Roland. It doesn't matter if you came from a farm in the middle of nowhere. It doesn't matter if you're dad was an absolute piece of shit. It doesn't even matter if you're a demon, if that's what you are! You're still my best friend and I-"

I love you.

She was silent, then wiped under her nose with a sleeve and stood up.

"I think I can walk now. I want to go look at the place again," she said. She was shaking on her feet as she walked up towards the outcropping of trees behind us. I knew she was going to collapse if she kept going, so I jumped up and blocked her way, placing both of my hands on her shoulders.

"Absolutely not," I said. "You're going to trip over a fallen tree or something."

"Let me go, Kid," she said wearily. I nearly froze. That name in that voice was going to take some getting used to.

"No. You still have something to tell me. I can see it."

"Do you want to know what else I've lied about? Is that it? Are you just curious because you're solving a fucking mystery?" Her voice was steadily rising.

"No!" I said. "I'm just worried about you."

She started to chuckle darkly.

"Don't you dare start to go mad on me!" I yelled. She jerked her head up. Her eyes were still grey.

"You wanna know what's making me mad? It's not the madness, that's for damn sure!" she laughed without any trace of humor. "It's the fact that I'm just running away from it all instead of facing it. I should have just gotten you to kill me before I did so much damage."

"Stop it, Riley."

"You said it yourself! I'm a demon! Kill on sight! Does that mean nothing to you?" She had an incredulous lilt in her voice.

"It doesn't change a damn thing for me," I growled.

"It doesn't change a thing for me, either. It doesn't change the fact that I'm just a little girl running scared!"

"You're not a little girl, Riley!" I yelled, shaking her slightly. "You're smart, and strong, and kind, and ferocious, and beautiful, and-"

"I'm fifteen!" she blurted. I froze.

"What?"

"I'm fifteen fucking years old and my life is falling apart!" she screamed at me.

Her legs finally gave out under her, sending her to the ground. I knelt down before her as even more tears started to leak out from her eyes, running my thumbs along her face to wipe them away before picking her up and carrying her to the tent. She eventually quieted and fell asleep in my arms, me not far behind her.

Fifteen. I was nineteen. That was four years. That was illegal. But as I held her in my arms that night I couldn't quite bring myself to care.

Because I realized I loved her.


End file.
